Heero Yuy, secret agent 001 : of Fire and Ice
by Daimeryan Rei
Summary: Heero Yuy, top agent in Her Majesty’s, Queen of the World Relena Peacecraft, Secret Service, is send on a dangerous mission: rebels in the L2 colony are developing a new commanding system for mobile suits, to overthrow the government. To execute his missi
1. Default Chapter

Heero Yuy, Secret Agent 001: of Fire and Ice

Pairings: to be established Heero and Duo.

Genre: AU, action, adventure.

Warnings: foul language, some angst.

Summary: Heero Yuy, top agent in Her Majesty's, Queen of the World Relena Peacecraft, Secret Service, is send on a dangerous mission: rebels in the L2 colony are developing a new commanding system for mobile suits - the Mobile Doll system - with the goal to overthrow the Earth Sphere United Nations government. To execute his mission successfully, Heero pursues the lead of a mysterious young man, clad in black, with a long brown braid and blue eyes…

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the brand names mentioned in this fic.

Author's note: Fic loosely based on the James Bond concept; so lots of brand names, flashy cars, high-tech gadgets and a lot of made up stuff (gratuitous use of 'artistic license'). The Gundam designs are the ones for the Endless Waltz models, except for the Deathscythe Hell, who looks like… the Deathscythe Hell. I don't like the Endless Waltz version of the Grim Reaper, but that's personal. Events and persons from Endless Waltz are used in this fic, mingled with events and persons from the first series, twisted to fit my evil plot. Everybody is 5-6 years older; as genius as Heero might be a 17 year old secret agent isn't really believable in my book.

* * *

The sparsely lit room was clouded with thick cigar smoke. The baccarat table was covered with cards and chips; one side of the table held a considerably larger amount than the other. An elderly, gray-haired man with sideburns and dressed in a pompous militaristic uniform, blew out another heavy smoke cloud of his Cohiba. He put the cigar on the ashtray next to him and reclined in his chair, sliding over the smooth, dark red velvet covering.

"Well, Lowe, are you going to cough up, or what?" He smiled falsely, showing his yellow, decaying teeth.

His young opponent with tousled, chocolate colored hair and blue eyes, dressed in an impeccable smoking jacket, didn't hesitate. A few cards flung over the table. The elder man blinked with his eyes, as the movement was almost too fast to notice.

"_Duke _Dermail," the young man drawled, using the spatula to slide under the cards, "all in due time. And I severely doubt I'm the one coughing up."

He flipped the cards over and the expression on Dermail's face changed accordingly. When noting the distressed look, the two younger servants who'd spend the whole evening standing immobile at the windows and were also dressed in militaristic uniforms, moved forwards, hands sneaking to their backs.

Dermail put up his hand, a silent sign to back off.

"You have nerves of steel, young man."

"That's necessary in my line of business. Now, have you considered my proposition yet, or not?"

"Straight to the point. That's what I like about you, Lowe."

"If I recall correctly, you were about to have my head if you didn't order those goons to stop. Make up your mind, Dermail."

The man narrowed his eyes. He insisted being addressed as a Duke, while he certainly didn't hold the official title. The cards flipped over again.

"Bank," he murmured, eying his hand set. "Tricky, Mister Lowe."

_Back to 'mister', I see. _The young man put his hands on the top deck. "I want answers, Dermail. I don't want my goods to go sour."

"I doubt it. Why the hurry? There won't be many other bidders."

"You're not the only one interested. Just tell me if you want the conductors or not."

Dermail put his cards down on the table, placing them on the green cloth. The young man's real purpose eluded him- Odin Lowe had approached him rather out of the blue with an offer he practically couldn't refuse, but the elder man's natural suspicion kept him from wrapping the transfer up. He knew there was something more behind this 'too good to be true' offer; he was too long in the business to fall for it.

"I bet that I'll have perfect baccarat in my next round. When I do, you will tell me everything about the load of microchips you have been hiding in your goods."

"I'm a perfectly innocent trader in luxury textiles, Mister Lowe," Dermail answered, but he didn't deny the accusation. "What if you don't reach baccarat?"

"Then I'll tell you who I really am."

"Very well. Your conditions are accepted."

"Perfect." He drew a card and flipped it over on the table. Ace of spades. "Baccarat."

"Impossible!" Duke Dermail rose from his chair, and the two younger servants immediately jumped at the young man, drawing guns. He moved like the wind, taking out the faster left one with a swift blow to the chin. The second proved to be a bit tougher, though he didn't put up much of a fight. He leant on the table for support to put extra strength in his kick. He had to move fast, before Dermail would leave the room.

He disposed of the second servant, picked up the gun he dropped and with a few steps backed up on the elder man, who was trying to open the door.

"Don't move, Dermail!"

"You're not who you supposed to be," Dermail said, looking frantically around. His servants were out and from the looks of it, not likely to wake up for a time to come. His mind worked at top speed.

"Don't try to sweet talk your way out of this, I'm immune, I assure you. Cough up the information, _Duke. _The microchips?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I deal in so much bulk goods, I can't keep track with all of it! Talk to my administrators, they can tell you."

He didn't sway with the gun. "You can't tell me that you weren't aware of gundanium microchips hidden in your latest textile shipment from Earth. Bad excuse, Dermail. Now, cough it up!"

The man started to sweat. He was paralyzed by the fierce glare of the young man, holding him into place, nailing him to the ground. "I... I wasn't aware."

"Why are you smuggling those chips? I don't have to remind you that trade in gundanium chips is prohibited, now do I? You face twenty years for one chip alone- and you had two thousand of them!"

"I… I don't know!"

"You became greedy, didn't you, Duke? Your lifestyle, your expenses couldn't be covered with the profits of your business. The nice fantasy world you've built started to crumble without proper funding, so you decided to smuggle gundanium chips. Very profitable, but also very dangerous. Why only one, when you can smuggle two thousand at the same time? Tell me, Dermail, what made you do it?"

He pressed the gun to the man's neck, almost disgusted by the large beads of sweat rolling down the skin there.

"You don't know what you're doing. If they find out, they'll kill us!"

"I haven't heard that one before," the young man snorted, obviously not impressed. "You know we can offer protection, even though I don't know why we should even bother. Nobody wants a repeat of the Eve Wars and people like you are clearly steering towards another conflict with your stupid chips! Who's your contractor, your boss?"

"Please! You can't make me tell it! I admit I did it for the money. I wanted the money; yes, I was greedy. Satisfied? You could never protect me. Not from them!"

"Tell me first who 'them' is, then we'll talk," the young man continued. "You're not in the position for negotiations, Dermail. I would tell before something happens."

"They'll find out. Chang will find out. You don't want to mess with Chang, or you'll die in an instant."

"Who's this Chang? Why do you work-" His sentence was cut off when a bullet went through the glass, hitting Dermail straight between the eyes. The man slumped to the ground, but the younger one had already jumped away and rolled over the floor, weapon aimed at the window. There was no one in sight. He stood up and carefully tiptoed over to the window, looking outside. He immediately spotted two, three places where the sniper could've fired from. He went back to the table and quickly checked it. The transmitter was in the handle of the spatula and he cursed. It was out of his control; he hadn't been able to sweep the room for bugs before he accepted Dermails invitation for the game of baccarat.

His only source of information was killed in front of his eyes and he quickly put the gun away, sight averted from the body close to the door. The two servants would wake up sometime and he didn't want to be around when they found their boss with a bullet between the eyes.

* * *

Saturday morning found Heero Yuy crooning over his Bentley 2500 GTR 1967. A perfect car in perfect condition. He adored old cars, preferably from Before Colony time- he restored them himself, finding relaxation in tinkering with the mechanics. He could use some time off after his debacle with Duke Dermail. "Odin Lowe" retreated back into the paper, made-up world he came from and Heero Yuy could finally relax to get everything straight.

He waxed the authentic wooden dashboard and put on the radio. He lowered the volume he already knew the news: the usual revolt in L2, strikes and violence in L3, undignified and disdainful comments from L4 and some more reprimands from L1, the only space colony walking in line.

Heero shook his head. He was glad to be a 'simple' secret agent- and not Queen of the World, Relena Peacecraft. A strong, powerful woman who assumed office after the death of her appraised father, a victim of a terrorist attack. Relena wasn't the one to bow for terrorists and threats. Heero had declined her request to become her bodyguard: first of all, he didn't like the exposure and even though he loved Relena dearly, he didn't think that 24/7 in her presence would do their friendship very good. He often snickered at the thought that the blonde girl with her childhood infatuation with him from high school would turn out to be such a strong, generous and righteous woman with a soft spot for him still in her heart.

She maintained the fragile relations between Earth and the colonies, a position no one in particular was jealous of. Ever since the construction of the space colonies, once seen as the solution for the overpopulation on Earth, there were quarrels, fights and revolts, mostly due to discordance between the local government and the population. The colonists had faced very severe and tough circumstances before they could benefit from life in outer space- and not soon after, the quarrels on Earth passed on to the colonies.

"All we did was create a second Earth in space," Heero mused. There was work enough for him as a secret agent as new factions and dangerous alliances were discovered everyday. Two engrossing wars had been fought between Earth and the colonies, resulting in the development and use of mobile suits; huge robotic weapons of mass destructions, symbolized by five Gundams: one for each and every colony cluster. Finally, after the second war -the infamous Eve War , the people of Earth and the colonies came to a fragile, preliminary accordance; the Gundams were destroyed; armament and military equipment and armies brought back to a minimum, and Relena Peacecraft installed a government with a strict and sovereign rule.

Still, people were confused, disappointed, or just plain malevolent. Duke Dermail wasn't the first or only person to smuggle gundanium chips. Those chips could be used for a lot of things- bad things. Nowadays the use of mobile suits was accepted in a severely restricted, only government approved way- there was no way a group of rebels could get a hold on mobile suits. However, with two thousand gundanium chips they would be well on their way. They could construct a guidance system with it, and figure out from blueprints - original Gundam blueprints were kept in a fortified vault - or any other mechanical design how to manufacture the suits themselves. Heero frowned. Even though he was supposed to relax and get some rest, his mind was automatically drawn towards the case- he didn't mind much, though; his work was his life.

Chang… Dermail had mentioned the name Chang. That certainly didn't narrow down his investigation, even though his boss, Lady Une, hadn't decided yet that he would follow up on this case. His initial mission, to toggle information out of Dermail, ended with the death of the man, and he hadn't given much out before he died.

Heero didn't know which secret agent would be investigating the Chang guy. Maybe they were in luck and there wouldn't be that many Changs known in those circles. What would an organization do with two thousand gundanium chips? Hold onto them for further distribution? No matter what, the organization had to be well financed- as one chip was worth half a million Earth credit on the black market.

The last outbreak of violence was on the L5 colony, who suffered ultimately with the highest price of all- self detonation, indirectly setting off the Eve War. Heero still couldn't fathom the mind of the people to blow up their colony rather than facing an Earth governmental structure. His conscience told him that there was something else behind it- there had to be, to make such a grave decision.

He finished polishing the dashboard and went inside his luxurious apartment. He had sparse free time and not that much money to spend, but he had inherited some wealth from his adopted father and mentor, Odin Lowe, which enabled him at least to pursue his hobby of the old cars. Heero used the name of his adoptive father only in cover operations and he was careful with it. No one was to find out that Odin Lowe truly was 001, Yuy, Heero Yuy.

The risks he daily took in his missions, endangering himself for the benefit of mankind, didn't faze him that much. He sometimes regretted that his life was so empty, but he didn't value friends that much; he only expected to be stabbed in the back. His shell was merely imposed on him by his father, and Heero knew that but refused to see it; the man was his hero and he didn't want to hear anything about it.

He went into his study, acknowledging the pile of books he still had to read when he freed up the time to do so; books on the Japanese samurai fighting styles, cooking and culture, exposing his own Japanese roots. He only knew some basic words of the language; he was one of the many war orphans with hardly any background information, let alone traceable information. He had been lucky to be adopted and picked up by Lowe; there were so many more orphans in dire need.

Heero sat in front of his computer and turned on the monitor. He checked his email and browsed some sites, when he heard the doorbell. Cautiously, he proceeded towards the door, gun tucked in his waistband, out of sight, but not out of reach. He saw pretty soon that it was a royal messenger. _News from Headquarters. _

He opened the door and accepted the flat envelope, signed for it and closed the door again. In the small hallway, he opened the envelope and took out another envelope, very heavy even though it contained only one sheet. The mauve sheet read "Report immediately."

Heero didn't hesitate for a second and went to his bedroom, to dress himself in a new suit, impeccable as always.

* * *

He really hated the elevator music and cursed for the umpteenth time the fact that his boss' quarters were on the highest floor. The doors opened and Heero stepped out in the marbled hallway with the two ferns. He made his way to the office of Lady Une's secretary, Lucrezia Noin. He heard voices, one female and one tenor male as he went around the corner.

"Nice to see you again, 006. Everything all right after that nasty fall?"

"001, mister Picture Perfect. So nice of you to think of the lesser man."

Heero smirked. He really didn't want to get on the man's bad side, but sometimes it was too easy not to pass on the occasion to taunt the lesser secret agents.

Une's secretary, Lucrezia Noin, was glaring daggers at him. He wasn't really impressed with her glare. It was widely known that she was madly infatuated with agent 006, Zechs Marquise, who had a good record, but not that good.

Heero couldn't count the rumors about Marquise getting fired any second now; the cases he worked on were always closed with a minimum of success and Marquise always seemed to benefit from his missions somehow, using his contact persons and merchants for his own good. Heero respected the man, but didn't like him necessarily and he certainly didn't like the way Noin was slobbering all over him. She was dressed in a blue deux-pièces and looking stern and all secretarial like, but couldn't hide her flushed cheeks. He decided not to pick on her and said, "I got the message to report to Lady Une, as soon as possible." He threw a little smug smirk in Zechs' direction.

Of course he didn't mind that he had to interrupt his vacation. Time off was a waste of time. He prided himself in not needing time to relax or to get things off his mind; Heero was the kind of agent that used old cases and their solutions to pass his time and to improve himself, seeing and deducing if he could've solved the case in question any other way. He was the most successful secret agent in Her Majesty's, Relena Peacecraft, Service and he knew it.

Lucrezia dialed Lady Une's office, listened shortly, and nodded her head before looking up.

"You can go right in," she said.

"Thank you, Lucrezia," he answered and went through the double doors. The red light over his head went on immediately. When he closed the door behind him, he was very surprised to find the Queen of the World, Relena Peacecraft herself, sitting at the desk with Lady Une, as if they were two best friends chatting on trivial things.

He went to her, took her hand and gave her a polite kiss.

"Relena, what a... pleasant surprise! How have you been?"

"Too busy, too much, too everything," she sighed, but smiled nonetheless. "You're looking great, Heero." He was glad to see her smile. Her childhood infatuation with him had returned full force when they were graduating and their ways were about to separate; and then took a turn for the worse when he had to tell her that he didn't feel for her that way. Relena was mature enough to not let it ruin their friendship; she valued the friendship more than a frivolous infatuation. Still, it had taken her precious time to overcome the personal crisis- her pretty protective childhood and her deep rooted belief and conviction that she and Heero would end up married being shattered making it difficult for her to deal with it.

"It's great to see you again."

Lady Une was a whole different matter. Strictly business, stiff in a suit, sitting up straight in her chair, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and chestnut brown hair tied up in a bun.

"Take a seat, 001." _Quit the small talk. _

Heero took a seat, anxiously looking from one at the other. Relena wasn't dressed in official attire; she wore a lavender colored skirt and a white mauve vest, giving her a young, girlish look, reminding him that they were both young, but looked so much older because of their obligations.

"May I ask you why you're here, Relena?"

She smiled again. "We'll talk after the briefing." _Big business_. Heero shifted in his chair, anxiety rising. These were the kind of cases he was living for, as even Relena came out of her office to assist Une. He saw the familiar black files with the red stars on Une's desk- top secret. His ears started to tingle.

"Heero," Une addressed him, quite familiar. Heero leaned forward so as not to miss a single word. Something big was coming up, he felt it. She crossed her fingers and looked at him over the rim of her glasses. "We think we've got a lead in the Dermail - gundanium microchips case and we want you to pursue it."

_Yes!_ He carefully schooled his expression in a neutral manner. Une untangled her fingers and touched the files, breaking the seal and opening it. She folded it open, turned it around and shoved it over the desk towards Heero.

"The Chang Dermail mentioned, could possibly be this Chang," she said and her words urged him to look at the file.

"Who found this information?"

"Through the years, we managed to establish a nice network in different colonies concerning the microchip trade," Une said and leaned back in her chair. "It turns out that some of our agents also picked up on the smuggling trail, concentrating on L2."

"Figures. L2 has always denounced the rule and government of the Earth Sphere United Nations."

Relena spoke up. "L2 has always been the underdog in the wars, always the center of retaliation and rebuttal. L2 has always proved to be the most stubborn colony of all the colony clusters, and no matter how much we tried, it was always in vain."

Heero picked up the tone of pain in her voice. It was on L2 that her father was killed- killed by a group of extremists protesting against the collaboration of the L2 government with the ESUN government.

"I don't know why they oppose so badly to any government rules and regulations," he said, picking up the photographs and leafing through them. "They have to realize that they can't govern themselves."

Relena looked pained. "L2 just doesn't want any kind of government. Not too strange, since the current government isn't capable of finding a needle in a haystack. It's because of their lack of a backbone the people still are hungry and in need of basic life support. No wonder they are revolting. We need to install a strong, strict government there- the colonists now think that things will be all right when they take matters into own hand. They refuse to listen to anything or anyone on the upper hand."

"The colonists blame it on the two wars, claiming that nothing has benefited them and things only took a turn for the worse." Une shook her head. "They don't want to follow L1's example, or listen to L4. Thank God they don't have the armament of L3, or we would have two very explosive situations."

"L2 is on its way to establish its own firepower, Heero. They want to wage a war, no matter what, and they want to bring back mobile suits to fight with. This most be stopped."

Relena had brought back the path of total pacifism in the world, but had to yield to the pressure of her ministry and government to at least allow some weapons and military installments for defense. Relena knew that her ideal of total pacifism was a utopia, but it didn't take her absolute horror of weapons away. First witness to the death of her father, growing up in two wars and dealing with the heritage of those wars, made her an avid anti-weapon lobbyist. Relena was often in danger thereof, but she refused to give in to the threat of weapons. She only relented in allowing a few mobile suits to remain on Earth, if only to remind people of the horror they caused. She was horrified of the Gundams and oversaw personally their destruction; sealed in a rock and slung into orbit, towards the hot, melting sun.

She clenched her fist. Une cleared her throat.

"We believe that someone is trying to manufacture the Gundams again. Those chips are more than likely to be used for their resurrection. Here, take a look at this."

Heero took the papers she gave him and scanned them. "Why wasn't I informed of this?"

"We had trouble piecing the puzzle together," Une addressed him sharply. "We didn't figure out the connection until we were thoroughly aware of the magnitude of Dermail's gundanium chip smuggling operation."

"Who would steal the blueprints of the original Gundams? Who would be able to steal those anyway?"

"It's up to you to find out who's responsible and who has paid for it, and more importantly - who holds those blueprints now. The last thing we need is another war, with new mobile suits and more bloodshed."

She tapped on the table top. Heero used the fallen silence to study the photograph.

It was a pretty sharp picture of two people. The Chinese young man on the left - Chang, no doubt- looked terse, rigid, and was clad in traditional white garb. His tank top was dark blue, and Heero could make out the rich embroidered dragon. He recognized the pattern.

"The Chang clan? I thought they were extinct, with the L5 colony blown up and all?"

"He's the last one," Une said, fingers rubbing together. "The last and sole survivor of the self destruction. He was sent off before they blew the colony up."

"And certainly one to hold a grudge against the Earth government," Relena said, albeit softly, as if she didn't want to be overheard.

"And who's this?" Heero tapped on the picture, on the other young man on the right. He first thought it was a woman, seeing the picture that was taken from an angle that obscured the greatest part of his face. From his posture and stance, Heero was almost certain it was a man. He was clad in black, with white sleeves and a white collar, like a priest garb. He wore a black cap that hid most of his eyes, but Heero could see the chestnut bangs peeking under it and the long brown braid. He had a wrench in his hand, as if he was a mechanic of some kind.

"No one. Unidentified bystander. I can have Identification look into it, but he doesn't seem important. Keep your attention focused on Chang."

Heero studied the background. It looked like a garage, so the man on the right could well be the mechanic repairing Chang's car. He snorted.

"When was this picture taken?"

"Three days ago, on L2, but he has long since left," Une said. "Chang came there with false papers. He was recognized by Ventei who risked a great deal taking the picture."

020, Heero's mind supplied. Ventei might be a stuck-up elder agent but he knew at least how to do some work, unlike Zechs. That man waved with every wind, as long as it pleased him.

"False papers?"

"Ventei managed to get that close to have a look at them. He was in good luck that day- and he didn't need a magnifying glass to see the exclusivity of those fake papers. They were extremely good."

"That's all we need," Heero muttered. "Well-funded terrorists."

Relena nodded. "It was to be expected, if they could buy two thousand chips of the market without batting an eye."

"Only Winner could pull that kind of stunt off," Heero said. Une, who just lifted up her cup of tea to take a sip, could barely refrain from spitting it out and Relena paled.

"Heero!"

"Yuy!"

He looked up from the photograph. "I wasn't insinuating that Winner has something to do with this," he said, almost bored. "I was only mentioning that he's as good as the only one who could cough up so much money to pay for two thousand chips in an instant."

"You're right, purely theoretically," Une confirmed. Relena winced.

"Heero, the reason I'm here is that I want to ask you for complete discretion," she said. "Dermails granddaughter, Dorothy Catalonia, is a close friend of mine and though she might be stubborn and obnoxious, she still holds a precious position. She wasn't aware of her grandfather's… extracurricular activities, though I never know with her…"

"It's a touchy subject," Heero supplied her. She sighed.

"And if Winner really is behind the financing of the rebels…"

"Quatre Raberba Winner lost his father in a rebel revolt, blowing up a resource satellite and almost hurling the colony past the LaGrange point into orbit. May I remind you that his eldest sister also died in that accident and that he barely survived? His spaceship suffered from the blow of the satellite and it's a miracle that he is still alive. Take my word, Heero, that Quatre Winner would be the last person on Earth and in space to finance the rebels!"

"He has associated himself with the Barton Foundation lately," Heero remarked, reminiscing this from the latest news reports.

"Trowa Barton is unaffiliated with this Foundation, spending his time searching for his sister, from who he was dramatically separated after his parents were killed in a car accident, also caused by rebels. I don't think that he would have to do anything with the rebels, either."

"The activities of the Barton Foundation are shady at minimum and they don't even deny their involvements in the Eve War. You know very well, Lady Une, Relena, that they have several deep ties in the war machinery. All we know from Barton is that he has a mercenary past- and Winner could well be traumatized by the events at young age. I'm sorry, but until I see steadfast proof, I'm inclined to believe what I think for myself. Human behavior doesn't surprise me, and I wouldn't be surprised in the least to see the people I don't expect it from, turn around and do the total opposite."

"Still the analyzer, aren't you, Heero?" There was a sad tone in Relena's voice, but he chose to ignore her.

"I was just theorizing," he said. "For all we know, Winner is a very successful business man with his multimillion resource satellites and mining operations, and Barton... well, let's say he's a business man as well."

"Enough," Une intervened, "you're well trained enough to know not to speculate without satisfactory proofed facts in hand. I don't think that either Winner or Barton have anything to do with it, but if they do, then we need to be cautious. We don't need another outbreak on political level as well."

"The damage Winner could cause would be enormous," Heero continued. "If he decides to close down his mining operations, millions of people will be out of work."

"That's why we keep a close eye on him, Yuy. You know that we don't want monopoly forming on the colonies or on Earth. As far as we know, Winner doesn't show any political involvement in either group."

"I've met him a few times, he seems to me a very compassionate person, not one to associate himself with rebel factions," Relena admonished.

"As I've said before Relena, I don't see why people can't change or why they can't pose themselves as someone they really aren't."

"It must be hard living with all that mistrust," she said and flung herself out of the chair, brusquely stalking out of the office.

"You have the great luck of being a personal friend of the Queen herself," Une snapped, waving with the black files, "to get away with half the things you've said here. Take these. Operation 'Zero System', and make sure you bring it to a good end. God help us all when there are so many parties involved. Now get out of here."

Heero picked up the files and bowed politely to Une, but she'd already dismissed him and looked at another stack of files on her desk.

Another set of pictures slipped out of the desk and cursing himself for his clumsy move, he squatted to the ground to pick them up. It was just three pictures of Chang again in the same environment talking to the mechanic. The same mechanic was better visible at the second picture and Heero stared at his face. He had a round face with an exuberant, out-going expression, with sparkling eyes and a wide smile. On this picture his chestnut hair was better visible and it was indeed a long braid, reaching his lower back. Heero stared dumbfounded at the picture.

"You can assume your studies at your own office," Une admonished, sounding sourly. She caught his every move; nothing escaped the attention of this woman.

"I was just wondering if the second man on the picture would be an interesting link to Chang," he answered stiffly. She bared her teeth.

"This picture was taken in a garage. Even though it sounds unlikely of Chang having his car repaired, I don't esteem this mechanic worthy of his attention."

"I beg to differ," Heero said, studying the picture again. "The man is very friendly and open connecting to Chang. Maybe they're friends? He's far too relaxed in his stance- Chang, I mean."

"Let me see." She adjusted her glasses when he handed her the picture. "Hmmm… I don't think you're right, still. I don't know the exact circumstances- Ventei had to clear out pretty fast after taking the pictures. He told me that Chang seemed pretty relaxed, though, but we don't know much about Chang. Maybe he's very easy to deal with- until you get on his bad side. May I remind you that he possibly is the Chang that Dermail referred to- Chang has been arrested before, but that was for participating in a demonstration and exclaiming anti-Earth forces slogans. Nothing with the computer chip smuggling."

"Most of the time renowned terrorists start out easy," Heero mumbled. He wanted the picture back- he was fascinated by the young man with the long braid. He vowed to himself to get after him first- he could get at least some more information about Chang out of him.

"Stick to the mission Yuy, that's what you do and what you do best. The mission." She returned the picture to him, but eyed him with her piercing glare. "Don't forget to go past J."

Heero bowed to her again, put the picture back into the file and left her office. He ignored Lucrezia's death glare once again; the Queen of the World storming out of the head supervisor of the secret service was something you didn't see every day. He winced mentally; there was something he had to do before he would go past J, the inventor and gadgets provider of the secret service.

* * *

It was a miracle on its own that Heero remembered where his office was; he wasn't often at the Head Quarters, let alone at his office. It was a tiny, seven square metered closed office with only a desk, a filing cabinet and two chairs. Sylvia Noventa, his secretary who also worked for a few other agents, almost dropped her jaw to the floor when she saw him. She had long since learned not to transfer phone calls or to bother him with paper work.

"Mister Yuy! I… I didn't think you were coming! The Queen… she is…"

"In my office, I know." He saw she was holding a glass of water. "Is that for her?"

The blonde girl nodded. Heero took it from her.

"Thank you, that'll be all." She nodded again and left for her own office at the end of the hallway.

Heero opened his office. It smelled stuffy; he hadn't opened the window in a year or so. Relena sat in the chair opposite his desk; head bowed to her chin, hands resting in her lap, shoulders slumped. Heero retrieved a chair from behind his desk and carefully placed it next to her and took his seat.

"Relena, I'm sorry. I... I didn't have the right to..."

She looked at him, smiling wanly. "I'm the one who should apologize, Heero." She hiccupped. She had pulled her hair loose and the wheat blonde hair framed her face, giving her a much younger appearance. He offered her a handkerchief.

"I don't want to hear anything about you apologizing. I should've known better- we hold different views on people, and I shouldn't be so blunt about it."

"It's just that… that I feel sorry for you, Heero." She shook her head. "I don't know if I'm using the right word, but I – pity you. You close yourself off, fortifying your impenetrable walls and I just can't help but feel sorry for you. You're missing out on so much. You don't even allow yourself to get close to your friends. Do you have friends, Heero?"

"In my kind of business friends are a liability and a possible danger and threat. Even our… friendship is dangerous- they could use you to get to me, or use me to get to you."

She looked up. "You're not alive, Heero. Really, you're not."

"I'm sorry," he answered, more out of routine.

"I have given up hope long ago about changing you, about thinking I could be the one for you," she said and lifted up her hand to stroke his cheek. He allowed her to touch him.

"You know I care a lot about you, and I long for you to be happy. To be happy with someone."

"Again, Relena, in my line of work…"

"You take such big risks in your work. I know all about it, Heero- no, don't deny it. You've broken more limbs than I can keep track of; you've been in so much danger so often that I've lost count of it. Yes, you bring home the best results, you've got more praise than you can imagine, but still- you don't take a risk in your personal life. Why else are you still alone?"

"Relena, I don't need anyone to feel complete. I'm happy as it is."

"So sad," she said. "I know about the pain, Heero. I felt the same when I realized that we weren't meant for each other, that you would never love me that way I do, that… that really hurt."

"I understand," he said. "I'm sorry, Relena. I don't want to cause you any pain."

She smiled. "I'm not pressing you into a relationship, Heero. I want you to be happy with the partner of your choice, of course. I just want to remind you that there are people who care for you, and that it won't hurt you to trust one or two friends once in a while. Don't give me that look, Heero- not everybody turns around to twist you a knife in the back. Yes. You've had friends who've turned on you or who haven't treated you right, that happened to me too. But I've maintained my faith, and not have it replaced by mistrust. It's life, that's what happens. Don't lose all your faith and hope, Heero. The world would be a rotten place without it."

She stood up, smoothed out her skirt and smiled. Without another word, she left the office.

Heero maintained his position in the chair, looking straightforward.

"The world already is a rotten place," he mumbled, not really believing it himself. He sighed, letting the silence in the office go past him.


	2. Chapter 2

For disclaimers, pairings, warnings and author's notes please refer to first chapter

-----------

The laboratories and other practice rooms the inventors had to their disposal, were located in the basement and Heero took the stairs for his daily exercise. When he opened the large door, he was greeted with a harsh: "Close it! Close it, you idiot!"

A cloud of fire and smoke approached him and only because of his fast reflexes Heero was able to throw himself to the ground, rolling away from the blast. He was back on his feet within a few seconds, adrenaline pumping through his body.

"What the hell, J?" He barked, looking at the scorched door.

An elderly man with more synthetic prosthetics for limbs than Heero cared to remember, cackled loudly and flicked some strands of greasy gray hair over his shoulder while shuffling towards the secret agent.

"Well, if it isn't 001! What made you come visit us geezers?"

Heero gritted his teeth. He didn't know what came over Une when she hired this scientist- a lunatic scientist, and four extra of them to boot. They were named after a certain letter in the alphabet and Heero didn't know -or care- if it had something to do with their first name or not. They were named G, S, O, H and J, of course- all experts in several scientific fields, and hired by Une to develop new gadgets and high-tech aids to assist the secret agents. J was assigned to the top ranks: Heero and two other agents who he didn't know by name, even though he suspected one of them was 006, Zechs Marquise, the agent with the infuriating sloppy attitude, and who managed to wheedled himself through every mission and made sure every woman at the office received his special attention. Heero wouldn't hold it for impossible that even Une had fallen for the man's charms- to him, Marquise was a second rate agent who only managed to keep himself out of large trouble because of his intelligence; 006 was not to be underestimated.. he just didn't like to do all the hard work.

The old man cackled again. "So you made the Queen of the World cry again, didn't you naughty boy?"

"I see gossip is traveling fast, as usual," Heero answered sourly. J patted him on the back. "You know I admire the one who can make her run around like a love stricken sap."

Heero flinched mentally, but didn't show any annoyance on his face. He knew that Relena was over her childhood infatuation for him -even though he doubted that sometimes, seeing her reactions- but apparently it ripped open old wounds. He still was struck by the fact that she actually bothered to come visit him and sit next to him when he was handed a new mission. Did it only have something to do with the fact that she feared political complications? He remembered the name of Dermails granddaughter, Dorothy Catalonia, and made a mental note to do some research into her and to see what danger she represented.

"Earth to Yuy," the old scientist rumbled and tugged at Heero's sleeve. "You might think I have all day, but I don't. Get over here, I've been working on some nice new things for you."

Heero followed the man obediently to a table covered with clutter, unfinished gadgets and junk he didn't think was worth one penny; J started digging around in the mess and unearthed some of his equipment.

"Here you are, 001- the standard pieces.. a Watermark 1990 ballpoint pen with laser, a Breil watch with the usual functions: Geiger teller, stopwatch, chronometer, cholesterol meter, garrote, time zones calculator, etcetera.. I have here your coat.."

"What's with the coat?"

"Ah, let me demonstrate you." The scientist put on the coat and stuffed his hands into the pockets. Heero noticed J's barely visible movement with his fingers, and the top button sprang away from the coat to land several feet further- and exploded on impact.

"You'll never know when it comes in handy," the scientist grinned, shrugging out of the coat. "Here, it's nice for this type of weather too. Furthermore, here is your wallet with copy facilities, credit cards with bug detection, x-ray sunglasses and a fine-tuned bow tie, for if you have a ball or a dance. It can jam radar equipment and you can transmit with it as well."

"I'm going after gundanium microchips smugglers, I'm not going to have a ball," Heero said, eying the rest of the equipment. J turned around, a look of surprise written on his face. The elderly man whistled.

"Gundanium? Why, I haven't heard of that material since the wars!"

"Interesting," another voice mingled into the discussion. Heero had long since noticed one of the other scientists, G, approaching them. The man was even more uglier than J with an impressive hooked nose and mushroom shaped gray hair. "I wish we had some gundanium to work with. The things we could make for the agents! Very, very interesting…" his voice drifted off. J turned his head, addressing Heero.

"Gundanium can only be manufactured in outer space, as the process is very difficult and consuming," he said. "It's the most excellent material for mobile suits. It's light compared to other materials, and has a high damage tolerance. Chips made out of gundanium make excellent commanding systems, Heero."

"I know," Heero answered, filing the information away for future use. He couldn't divulge any other or more information, so he brusquely ignored J's obvious intention to discuss the matter more. G threw him a questioning look, but didn't continue.

"What do you have for transport?"

The scientist didn't pursue the previous topic either. "I fixed the BMW and upgraded it, but please, don't wreck it like you last did. No matter how advanced the car might be, it doesn't withstand another plunge like before- not to mention how much it hurts when the wreck is brought here."

"Sorry," Heero mumbled. J handed him the keys.

"Here you are, it's parked outside. Please do read the manual this time and don't start hitting random buttons, okay 001?"

He heard the other scientists cackling and slammed the door shut, feeling pretty irritated.

------------

Heero finished packing and took a last look at the classified files. He had memorized every little shred of information on Dorothy Catalonia. The girl didn't represent a very high danger to Relena, if not a danger at all- if she was to form a political alliance, it would be the problem of the Queen of the World, not his. He was only for the secret service, not for political intervention, and at this moment the smuggling and the consequences of two thousand gundanium chips had his top priority attention.

The last sighting of Chang had been at L4, confirming Heero's suspicions about the well-funding. It wasn't clear if Chang was the one to buy the chips, or if he belonged to a certain rebel faction; the very little information available about the Chinese man hadn't helped him much- but at this moment, he was his only lead. Heero put in the last of his shirts in the suitcase. He would go under the name of Odin Lowe, if only to pursue his last leading trail with Dermail. Heero assumed that his contacts he established as Lowe, would give him the benefit of the doubt; anyone in his situation would've stayed low after the assassination of Dermail. He still had to figure out who was responsible for that as well. Enough work to do. He snapped the bands on his suitcase shut and pondered.

As long as he could remember, L4 was the home colony of the Winner family. The previous head of the family had been killed during a revolt by the population and the current Winner head -Quatre Raberba Winner- didn't seem to have any trouble with the colonists. Maybe because everybody was sick and tired of war, or was his predecessor not fit for the job... or was the blonde billionaire, renowned for his empathic abilities, up to something? Could he really be plotting to start a war, out of revenge? Heero sighed.

His adoptive father, Odin Lowe, had taught him so much, but also transferred his paranoia on to him. Heero didn't mind a healthy dose of mistrust, but sometimes when he thought back to Relena's words, he knew she was right. He didn't allow anyone in his life- not only was he not interested, they often represented danger or hurt- friends, a life partner, they could be used against him, turn against him, were a liability. He wasn't surprised by human actions and automatically assumed the worse. Maybe it was time to change that- but his line of work made hem more cautious. He moved in dangerous circles, and he couldn't trust anyone as soon as he emerged in those circles again.

Heero had to be in time to catch the space flight to L4. He didn't expect to find Chang there, but he had a lead to someone close to Dermail. General Septem could be the one who had knowledge on Chang's whereabouts. He picked up his tickets and checked his watch again. Goodbye Heero Yuy, hello Odin Lowe.

----------

The spaceport was crowded and Heero weaved through the stream of people. L4 was definitely one of the most prosperous colonies, courtesy of the influential Winner Enterprises. He collected his suitcase and took a cab to the nearest hotel, longing for a moment of silence after the long trip to collect his thoughts about approaching General Septem. He knew that Septem wasn't a general, just as Duke Dermail hadn't been a real duke; apparently, they both appreciated old militaristic titles and habits more than the newer rebel factions.

The news about Dermail's death and the confiscation of the gundanium chips must've been widespread by now, Heero assumed. The news about the confiscation wasn't worldly announced - the Earth government decided that it was in the best interest to not give rumor about even the existence of the gundanium chips- but every rebel faction would know. Still, there was that thief who stole the original Gundam construction plans and designs- quite a cunning job to steal that under the very noses of the conservators. Heero hadn't known that there was still interest in the mobile suit designs- how could anyone be interested in reviving those dangers to society? Would anyone really be as.. desperate as to revive the Gundams for their own goals?

The cab dropped him off at Star Hotel and he checked in. An average hotel, an average room with the basic furniture- bed, chair, desk, TV. Heero took a shower first; the nightlife would be the only place to gather information and he had plenty of time to get some rest and dinner before making his way onto the streets. In his years as a secret agent, Heero had established contacts on every colony; Nichol being one of them. This man was a fence with a mean streak in him; he was one of the first to confirm Heero's distrust towards people. Nichol was a prime example of someone who would act nicely in the face, only to turn around and give a stab in the back, and in his case, twist it a few times extra. Heero knew it wouldn't take much time for the news about his arrival to travel around; people would learn soon enough that Odin Lowe had returned.

---------

The Sphere Lounge was packed; the mass of sweating bodies didn't really appeal to Heero, but he made his way through the dancing crowd with his usual determination. He knew Nichol for a while now; he'd certainly find him in the back, draped with girls and a drink in his hand.

Heero spotted the man with the short cropped dark brown hair and out-of-fashion sideburns indeed at the back of the establishment. To his surprise, he was flanked by only one man sitting next to him; a young guy with light brown hair. They both looked up expectantly when Heero approached them. Nichol even rose from his chair, though he didn't bother to outstretch his hand.

"Lowe, news had it that you were back in town again."

"Nichol, such pleasure to see you again." Heero didn't hide the disdain and superiority in his voice. It was part of his Odin Lowe persona, to not allow anyone to intimidate him and to treat everybody with a certain arrogance. He was more bound to be remembered that way- a shy attitude would bring him nowhere in this kind of business.

"Have a seat."

Heero sat down in the tacky gold and red velour chair and looked at Nichol. "What's the status?"

"The merchandise is gone," the man said, using wide and exaggerated moves to lit a cigarette. "Ten million down the drain. The Duke certainly was a greedy little piece of work."

"He's been dealt with, rather forcefully."

"Yeah- and you were close when that happened, too."

"I'm glad you cut to the chase," Heero said. He eyed the young looking man sitting on Nichol's left- a quiet observer, but too young and too inexperienced to escape Heero's attention.

"What's with your partner?" He prompted.

"Walker here is new to the business. He has some ties, and if he does well, he can opt for the Duke's position."

"So fast?"

Nichol shrugged. "You know how fast this business moves. I'm surprised to see you again Lowe, you've been out of it for a few weeks. If you don't deliver or keep to your word, you're gone."

"My deal with Dermail was blown off. I still have the goods for sale."

"No one wants your shitty conductors. I don't know why Dermail was interested in them in the first place. Everybody is only talking about the gundanium chips now."

"Dermail was interested because my conductors were the only one compatible with the chips," Heero answered him dryly. From the look of Nichols bulging eyes, he had him hook, line and sinker.

"What the hell?"

"How do you think I feel, Nichol? I was about to make a great deal when some idiot decided to put a bullet in the Duke's head. I still want to get my hands on the fucker who did that."

Nichol started to laugh boisterously, closely followed by Walker. "You? Well, if your merchandise is really as good as you're saying, than they will come out of their own to you."

"They?" Heero narrowed his eyes.

"They," Nichol repeated, enjoying the slight upper hand he had. He blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "If your conductors are as good as you say, they will find their way to you. Don't sweat it, Odin."

Heero started to fume. He didn't like being addressed with his first name. "You're walking a fine line, Nichol. What makes you so confident?"

"I'm the only one who can introduce you to the circle, so the friendlier you are to me, the sooner you can sell your wares. If you don't mind waiting or praying for them to come to you, then I won't do nothing for you. I know a few on the inside."

"Good for you," Heero snarled. "I'm not about to listen to you, Nichol. I'm offering you the scoop of the availability of the conductors- take it or leave it. They will find me eventually, just like you said yourself."

Nichol motioned a waitress to order some drinks. "Still on the wodka-martini?"

Heero decided to accept- he needed to keep his head clear, but it would be too conspicuous to decline. The girl left after the drinks were ordered and Nichol put out his cigarette, leaning forward.

"Things are going well, Lowe. Soon, I can start on a second club and this one is doing fine as it is."

"Does Chang protect you?" Heero asked bluntly. He was satisfied when he saw Nichol's arm waver.

"What? Chang himself? Man, he's way too busy to occupy himself with little ol' me. I'm on the lower ranks, you know."

"I know." Heero couldn't resist rubbing it in. Nichol glared at him.

"You don't have a rank at all."

"No, but I have the conductors. Point in my favor."

"You don't know shit if Chang wants them."

"So Chang was behind the smuggling?"

Nichol wriggled on his chair, cornered now he had blabbed. "Well, no, not really. Chang has nothing to do with the smuggling, but he was highly interested in the chips. I don't know if he was the definitive bidder, though."

"Any leads to who the highest bidder was?"

Nichol scowled. "You don't really think that I would know that?"

"You have big ears." Heero accepted the drink from the waitress and a silence fell. After a few minutes, Walker finally said something.

"The highest bidder is only known in the highest ranks. I doubt the Duke would've known it."

"What about the General?"

Nichol almost spat out his drink. "You're certainly not thinking of approaching him about it?"

"Why not? You could introduce me."

"Forget it. The General is way too busy- he has gundanium chips to deliver, remember? He has to get them from somewhere."

Heero snorted. "You don't pull two thousand gundanium chips out of nowhere. It's going to cost you: time and money."

"That's why they're going to steal them back," Nichol smirked. "Fabrication and duplication of the chips would be time consuming and more likely than not, the new batch would be more prone to errors than the first one. That's why it's decided to steal them back."

Heero barked a short laugh. "Who's going to walk out with two thousand gundanium chips out of the fortified national vault?"

Nichol smirked again. "Simple," he said, and took a swig of his drink. "Shinigami is."

----------

The neon lights hurt his eyes. Heero closed the shutters of the hotel room and walked over to his laptop, pontifically put on his desk. He had searched the Internet for this Shinigami person- he know from his ethnic background that it literally translated to "God of Death", but it was more of a general name. The God of Death had much more significance in Japanese mythology and Heero wasn't even sure if it was one deity in particular- the legends and myths were far too complex to fathom. He shrugged. It had to be a code name, no doubt, for a very talented thief, if he - or she? - planned to walk out of the vault with all those chips. However, if it was the same thief who managed to lift the original Gundam designs, he probably would also succeed in stealing the chips.

Using a special program on his laptop, Heero send an encrypted message to headquarters about the intended theft; hopefully it would urge Une to take proper precautions and beef up security. If those chips would fall into rebel hands, they could cause some serious damage if they really were to rebuild mobile suits, and Gundams in particular. He knew he'd have to hurry to get to the core of this particular problem- as soon as became clear which organization was responsible for the smuggling. It was clear that Dermail hadn't operated on his own; but he was killed before he could reveal more information.

Nonetheless, Heero knew where he could find General Septem, and that man was next on his list. He still had the solid cover of the conductors; it hadn't been a lie that they were the only compatible ones with the gundanium chips. If the rebel faction employed their own engineers, it was certainly possible that they could produce their own conductors- it would take lots of time and effort, and Heero wanted to keep the upper hand by selling the pre-made product. It was a feeble bait, but a bait nonetheless. It was his only hope of penetrating the tight circle on his search mission for Chang.

------------

The ball room certainly wouldn't outdo Relena's idea of a good party or one of the many receptions and banquets she had to attain in her duty as Queen of the World. L4 demonstrated this evening where the colony was known for; luxury, decadence, cheap gold, too much of everything. Heero scowled at the guests, but tried to keep his face in its own, placid expression. He was on the lookout for General Septem, a man with truly the most fake smile in the world and a horrible voice to boot. The man was attending this charity ball while he was guilty of gundanium chips smuggle and possible conspiracy against the ESUN government.

Heero tugged at his collar. He left his Walther PPK gun back at the hotel- he wasn't here to start a fight, but to observe and to establish contact between him and Septem. A perfectly dressed woman with jewelry ten times his gross income passing him was echoing the rumors floating around that Quatre Winner would be coming to this party. Heero shrugged; he wasn't really convinced that the well-known benefactor would show up himself- the man was probably swamped with work and wouldn't be missing out on this umpteenth ball anyway.

A woman with blonde hair tried to make eye contact with him, but after a single glare she quickly looked away and tried to harp someone else into conversation. Heero accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and lifted up his hand. The sleeve of his jacket crept up and revealed his watch; the in-built camera was already working, recording the guests present. There was a great possibility of more smugglers being present here- he would file the footage by e-mail to headquarters later.

"That's a very nice watch."

Heero mentally slapped himself for letting his guard down. He hadn't heard the woman approaching, and forced himself to turn around and smile at her. She wasn't a pompous woman plastered with make-up and packed with jewelry, but a nice, albeit tom-boyish looking girl with short cropped black hair, bangs framing her face. Her dress was a plain dark blue one, and she only wore a small silver necklace.

"Is it a genuine Breil, Diamond 7400 series?" He moved his wrist so she could take a better look at it. "Yes, it is. Wow."

"You certainly know your watches."

"Let's say I have a good eye for pretty things," she winked at him, "and I always get what I want. If not legal, then illegal."

"So, how's the illegal business been lately?"

She laughed. "My name's Hilde Schbeiker. You are…?"

"Lowe, Odin Lowe," Heero introduced himself and he saw something changing in her eyes, making the connection. It immediately sharpened his senses. If she knew his name and connected him to Dermail and his demise, she was probably moving into certain circles, and not the regular ball guest he was keeping her for.

"Terrible business," she said, shaking her head. "How did you manage to escape?"

"The shooter obviously wasn't targeting me," Heero answered. "I had no troubles whatsoever to leave the place."

"Strange," she tapped at her chin, revealing some pretty gold rings with diamonds in a rather laborious setting. "I know lots of people who wanted Dermail dead, how impersonal it may sound. His merchandise was already terrible tainted and he double-crossed a lot of people."

Heero was taken aback. Surely this girl didn't speak aloud about Dermails shady business at a charity ball, or was she really that stupid?

She smiled again, a disarming smile. "It's a terrible blow for his granddaughter. She has to finish his business, I guess. Maybe she's interested?"

He knew she was referring to his conductors. Good, that meant that Nichol had blabbed about his visit to his club and that word was spreading about Odin Lowe being back in town again.

"I haven't heard from the Dermail estate," Heero answered courteously. He put his glass down and offered the girl her arm.

"May I ask this dance from you?"

"One dance only," she answered. "I'm with someone."

"Very well." Heero smiled back at her and recognized the foxtrot the orchestra was playing. They swiftly moved on to the dance floor.

"So miss Schbeiker, you're in the business as well?"

She laughed again. "I'm only for the loose ends," she said. "I know a few people, but not that much. I'm not the one to discuss your matter."

"Maybe you know to who I can talk to?"

"Mister Lowe, not too audacious, please."

"My apologies." He swirled her around, carefully following the music. After the dance was over, she made a curtsy for him.

"Pleased to have danced with you, mister Lowe." She wanted to rise up again and yelped when two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her up.

"Hilde! Why, I ought to put a leash on you. Leaving me in the cloak-room and dancing with handsome young men when I look the other way!" The unknown man put the girl back on her feet and turned her around, giving her two exuberant pecks on the cheek. Heero stood flabbergasted. Before him was the man from the picture. The one with the braid. The mechanic standing next to Chang.

"No offense," the man addressed him, voice a bit raspy but rich in tones, "but I always get a bit nervous when she acquaints with someone I don't know… yet." He looked at Heero and smiled. It was as if Heero was struck with a ten ton hammer in the head. The man before him was a dream come true. He was vibrant with life- sporting the same, healthy red cheeks as in the picture, and showing large, shining eyes with blue and violet hints in it. With the dazzling chestnut hair carefully braided, swinging as if it had a will on its own, and clad in a perfectly smoking, just like Heero's, made the stranger even look more attractive. Hilde's voice seemed to come from far, far away.

"Duo, meet Odin Lowe. Mister Lowe, meet Duo Maxwell."

"Please to meet you," Heero said, quickly coming to his wits and outstretching his hand. He got a pleasant, though firm shake back.

"My pleasure," Duo commented. "I take it Hilde has been a pleasure to dance with? Do you mind if I take over?"

"Yes and no," Heero answered and he was rewarded with a boisterous laugh. Hilde swung her arms casually around Duo's shoulders and Heero had trouble keeping his face straight. _Damn! _

"Maybe we'll meet again, Mister Lowe," she said and winked at him, though not in a flirtatious matter. Duo grabbed her other hand and they assumed the dance position for a quickstep. Without a partner, Heero retreated from the dance floor and looked for a place to observe without being observed himself. His eyes were glued to the man who danced like it came all natural to him. _Duo Maxwell_. He was no longer the 'unidentified bystander' from the picture. Seeing him dancing the night away, Heero firmly squashed his jealous feelings for Hilde Schbeiker. He wasn't about to have feelings, certainly not romantic feelings, for someone he had just met, and more than likely was "on the bad side". This was what he always feared and this couldn't be happening. Not to him. He gulped.

Heero reminded himself that he had to find General Septem, and from the voices coming from the left, he pegged the man instantly. He had the most obnoxious voice ever, raspy and screeching. Heero abandoned his position and was about to approach the general, when he saw Duo and Hilde leaving the dance floor and walking in the same direction. _No! _The thought surprised him, but he didn't have time to wonder about it- Septem walked up to the couple and greeted them, by shaking Duo's hand and pecking Hilde on her cheeks. Septem gestured wildly with his arm, probably to invite them over at his table. They complied and two waiters were immediately at the table, presenting drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Heero gritted his teeth. This could be a long night. He decided against approaching them at this moment, not being sure about the mutual connection. He remembered from the picture that Duo was standing awfully close to Chang in a pretty friendly matter- he had to outwait the evening and hoping that Duo Maxwell would lead him to Chang.

The evening dragged on and Heero stopped listening to the music and the rumors a long time ago, declining any offered drinks. His interest had piqued when he saw the trio finally stand op; Septem, Duo and Hilde -he didn't want to argue with his mind why he referred to them with their first names- bade their farewells and started leaving the room. Heero made up his mind; he would follow Duo. He made his way quickly through the crowd to exit after them. Duo addressed the valet boy to get his car; he had draped his coat on Hilde's shoulders.

"What's next?" Heero heard her say, voice clear in the night.

"Let's go for a nightcap," Duo answered in his strangely melodious baritone- or it sounded at least melodious to Heero's ears. He made his way over to the parking lot to start his own BMW, not allowing himself to lose Duo out of sight. Hilde stepped into the car while Duo held the door open for her; it was a black Pontiac TransAm, probably a Before Colony one. He sped away, with Heero going into pursuit.

-------------

It was a short, but fast drive of fifteen minutes before the TransAm finally came to a halt- not for an abandoned warehouse as Heero expected, but before a rather exclusive looking apartment complex. He parked the BMW, locking it with his electronic handheld and made sure he didn't walk into the eyesight of the couple. They went into the large building, talking softly, occasionally laughing. Heero quickly crossed the street, but was too late to keep the entrance door open; it fell back into its electronic lock. With no one in sight, Heero used the function on his Breil to jam the circuit of the lock and it sprang open. The voices of the couple were overheard from the stair case; he could pinpoint them halting on the fourth floor, rattling with door keys. Heero cursed himself mentally for not having planted a transmitter on either of them, but he hadn't known Hilde was connected to Duo, nor didn't expect to meet the man from the picture so soon. He just knew there was something to Duo; his intuition never lied to him. Une would probably be pissed off to hear that he went after someone whose identity hadn't been established yet or rather, she had dismissed as being not important. Heero's gut feeling didn't deny itself. Debating how to approach the situation, as he was standing on the stairs, he overheard them talk.

"… sure about that?" Hilde's voice.

"I'm not sure, no." Duo's voice. "What about Gwinter? What did he have to offer?"

Hilde snorted. "He wouldn't pay- he thinks you should crawl on your knees and thank him for getting the job. It's not our fault that the deal didn't go through!"

"That remind me- you spoke with the manufacturer of the conductors?"

Heero almost stopped breathing. Perfect! They were talking about him! He pulled one of his credit cards out of the inner pocket of his tux- this example had a recording facility and reach of a few hundred meters. Some genius at headquarters would filter out all excessive sounds later. Heero pushed the minuscule 'record' button. If they were talking about the deal, maybe he could collect enough dirt to arrest them later.

"Odin Lowe? Yes, I talked to him. A bit uptight, but okay."

He bristled.

"I don't know if he can be useful, though. I don't know if Dermail really wanted to buy those conductors. Wufei had another offer."

Wufei? Could that be Chang's first name? Heero was of course aware of the Chinese culture of addressing a native Chinese with his last name. Europeans or Americans would rather address someone with his or her first name. Filing this information away for further use, Duo's other words sank in. _Another offer?_

"Let's first get those chips back, don't you think?"

"I'll leave you to prepare," Hilde said and the door of the apartment closed- no matter how good the recording radius of the credit card was, the thick door literally stood in the way. Heero was shocked. _Let's get those chips back. _The chips were about to be stolen back, he had informed headquarters about that... and this Duo Maxwell was the thief? Was he Shinigami, where Nichol had referred to? He couldn't fathom it and was lost in thought when he suddenly heard the entrance door of the building open, realizing he was still standing on the stairs, pretty much in the open. Quickly he put his credit card away, adjusted his tie and descended the stairs, even friendly greeting the elderly woman going up. Heero decided to go back to his hotel to reevaluate the situation and the mission...

The drive back to the hotel didn't take him more than half an hour minutes and when he checked in, the receptionist smiled at him. "Mrs. Lowe is already waiting for you," he said.

Heero succeeded in containing the surprised look on his face. "Thank you. I do hope you've treated her right."

"But of course," the receptionist answered, almost indignant. "Dom Pérignon '68, smoked salmon salad and crème brulée went all on your account according to Mrs. Lowe's wishes."

Heero almost choked, but he managed to croak out an "Excellent". He motioned the bellboy to get the elevator to the highest floor, meanwhile thinking about what the receptionist had said. After checking that there was no one on his floor, he pulled out his Smith and Wesson .28 and loaded it. Mrs. Lowe… well, if it wasn't one of the eldest tricks out of the book. He opened his door and carefully pushed it further open, gun in hand. The room was sparsely lit, casting a soft glow on the furniture and highlighting the silhouette of a woman with a glass in her hand. She had already noticed him.

"Come on in, Odin. You don't want to keep a woman waiting, now do you?" Her voice was low for a woman, with a throaty chuckle. "Get in, before the crème brulée gets cold."

Heero closed the door, gun still pointed to the woman. He walked into the room, gauging her. She wore her strawberry blond hair in two braids, carefully plaited and resting on her shoulders. She was clad in a men's jumpsuit, possessing sophisticated class and a flair that Relena with her girlish look couldn't touch within a mile; but this was a dangerous woman, unlike Relena. He knew he had to be careful.

"To what do I owe this honor?"

She chuckled again, putting the glass down on the small glass table next to her. "One of my friends wants to see you. I'm just here to deliver the invitation, Odin. I'll give you a hint, though; it has to do with your merchandise. Oh, and as soon as you've accepted the invitation... I should inform you that he'd love to talk about the Duke's death."

Heero's hand didn't waver. "If I think I know who your 'friend' is who wants to see me, than I'm very surprised to learn that he isn't behind the murder of the Duke himself."

She shrugged and hoisted herself up from the velvet chair, with such a swift movement that Heero hardly noticed. Her large blue eyes looked at him and he felt as he'd been x-rayed. "You're not the only player on the market, though you are an interesting one. I don't know if my friend can offer you something you can't refuse, but I know one thing for certain- you shouldn't refuse the invitation."

"Very well. I accept."

"Good boy." She smiled, without any emotion. "Be prepared tomorrow. We will pick you up at the hotel before lunchtime."

"Very well," he repeated, but she was already through the door, the click of the lock closing the only sound to rupture the silence.

-----------

Heero yawned. He had stayed up late to perform an Internet search for Duo Maxwell and Hilde Schbeiker, but he didn't dig up any important information, even the profound databanks of headquarters had left him empty handed. He had relayed the two names through to Lucrezia Noin, hoping that she'd be able to pass him something he could work with. After a simple breakfast Heero had spend the morning doing meditation and exercises, as well as mentally preparing himself for his "lunch appointment". If he really was to face Chang so soon, he had to have his story ready- even the slightest mistake could cost him his head. He felt the usual surge of adrenaline flowing through his body while he pumped himself up. This was the work he was cut out for, and any relationship, any bond or friendship would undermine it. He'd never allow one of his friends or lovers to be used against him and he wouldn't want to endanger anyone close to him. This was where he was born for to do and nothing would stand in his way... though he couldn't deny that a certain braided man had featured in his dream last night. _Well, looking is okay, touching is not. Feeling is not okay. Keep your head clear._

The telephone rang and he picked up the horn.

"Lowe here."

"Mr. Lowe, there are two men down here to pick you up," the pleasant voice of the receptionist rang out to him.

"Excellent. I'm coming down." Heero hung up. He quickly finished dressing, putting his black jacket over the holster with the Smith & Wesson. His escort certainly would be donned with a gun as well, no doubt about it. If they'd search him and took the Smith & Wesson- well, he wasn't dependant of the gun to ensure his life.

Heero went downstairs, taking the stairs instead of the lift, and greeted the two young men. He recognized the left one as Walker, the one who was with Nichol when he visited him yesterday. The other one was pretty burly and probably strong enough to throw Heero across the lobby without breaking a sweat. Neither of them bothered with introductions and Walker didn't show any sign of recognition.

"The car is outside."

Heero wasn't surprised to see a silver Mercedes, limousine class, and he stepped in. The burly man took a seat next to him while Walker took the opposite chair. Nobody uttered a word, and Heero didn't mind- he didn't want to waste his time dealing with cronies when he was on his way to the big fish.

The car drive took at least one hour and a half- he noticed immediately they were out of town, despite the heavy tinted glasses. The amount of traffic noise diminished rather quickly, meaning they were on the countryside- L4 had lots of specific areas where the rich could relax in relative privacy, away from the smoking cities.

The limousine came to a halt and the door was yanked open by an impeccable groomed young man, looking extremely bored.

"Mr. Lowe? The General is expecting you."

So it was Septem who had orchestrated this meeting, not Chang. Heero was almost disappointed. He reminded himself that it would take some time to catch the big fish, and that he had to deal with the small fry first. He would get to Chang eventually- assuming that he had something to do with the whole gundanium chips business. Heero followed the servant through pompously decorated hallways and antechambers until he came to stand in front of a very elaborated oak wooden door.

"The General will receive you now."

He didn't bother to thank the man who opened the doors to announce him. Noticing that Walker and the burly bodyguard had disappeared, he stepped inside the luxurious room.

"General Septem, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The man balked a short laugh, sounding like grating chainsaws on a chalk board. "To tell you the truth, Lowe, I was a bit nervous at first. It seems that everyone you talk to, have the nasty habit to get killed."

Heero straightened his face. "I'll be sure to when I catch the killer, I will tell him to refrain from doing so, sir."

"You want to catch Dermail's killer?" Septem motioned for Heero to sit. He had already seen that the corner of the room was a bit dark and he clearly distinguished the outlines. Someone was sitting there. Could it be the woman of yesterday? The outline was too obscure to distinguish if it was a man or a woman.

"Why not? He ruined my transaction and my reputation. Something I pride myself in."

"Ah, your transaction. Circuit conductors, hm? Cigar? Real Havanas."

Heero declined politely. He didn't smoke. Septem used the occasion to lit one up, making a big show of it and inhaling deeply.

"Circuit conductors compatible for Gundam chips. Interesting niche of the market, Mister Lowe. Don't you think you're restricting yourself too much? Gundanium isn't that widely available, nor that much in use."

"There's enough to make a living," Heero informed him, quite deadpan. "And with the deal I was about to make with Dermail, it would've lasted me a lifetime."

"Very true," the man said. "About that deal with Dermail. You certainly know by now that we're pretty much interested in your conductors. We tried fabricating them on our own, but it turns out to be too labor intensive and our output isn't as flawless as yours. So why do all the hard work when someone already did that?"

_Bingo. _Heero didn't change the expression on his face.

"We can't promise you the same deal, however. I don't know the exact details."

"I think you know them just fine. Or else your mysterious partner over there in the corner knows them," Heero said, nodding with his head. He wasn't about to get caught in this web, he had too much invested and worked too hard to fall for such a trick.

A short laugh erupted from the corner and a chair scraped over the floor. The person who had shrouded himself in the shadows, emerged rather quick. Heero managed to keep a smirk off his face. It was Chang, no doubt about it.

The young Chinese, stern and rigid in every move, approached him. He wore traditional Chinese garb, akin to the one he'd worn on the picture. The golden and crimson broidered dragon shone in the sunlight, filtered through the large window panes. Chang came to stand in front of him and Heero was confirmed in his earlier suspicions- this was a dangerous man as well. Chang didn't sport one ounce of fat on his body, being one and all toned and slender muscle. His dark ebony eyes had a piercing glaze; once again Heero felt like he was being x-rayed. He maintained his position and refused to be intimidated by the glare. Chang didn't offer Heero a hand, only looked at him

"Despite what you think, I wasn't _au courant _with Dermail's plans," the Chinese young man said, speech and diction controlled and composed. "He left our Earthly plane before I could talk to him about it."

"Convenient, or not?"

"Highly inconvenient. I'd love to have known the details. It makes our deal so much more difficult, don't you think? Septem!"

The General almost fell out of his chair. "Yes?"

"Have some tea brought up to us. I'm going to discuss business with Mister Lowe in the green room." He excluded rather significantly Septem and Heero duly noted the sullen look on the face of the general, now reduced to mere errand boy. His voice was rather curt when he answered: "As you wish."

"Mister Lowe?" Chang motioned him to walk forward and Heero left the room via another door. There was a huge hallway behind it and he wondered how much corridors this mansion had. He easily could get lost in here.

"This way." Chang opened a door that was hardly noticeable, as it was decorated with the same pattern as the wall paper. The green room was named green for a reason- everything was decorated in several hues of green and showed lots of traditional Chinese influences on the furniture. Heero couldn't help but admire the beautiful silk screens depicting large parrots, elephants and other animals, all hand painted and crafted. While he followed Chang to the seats, he threw a look out of the window; and saw, to his surprise, a beautiful rose garden.

"Are you the owner of this mansion?"

A servant came in with the tea, carrying a silver tray with Chinese porcelain cups, and started pouring. Chang shook his head. "This mansion belongs to the good General."

_No doubt, _Heero mussed and looked outside again. "Beautiful garden. Peons, roses... lilies…" Suddenly his eye caught something. Two men walked through the garden, relatively close, talking amiably. They were too far away to lip read or to understand what they were saying, but Heero recognized them. _Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton. _What the hell were they doing here in a mansion owned by Septem? Septem wasn't very clean, and for a prominent business man like Quatre Winner, any connection between him and the shady general wasn't good for his public relations. Heero assumed that the man walking next to Winner was Barton; but as he had a far lower profile in society, Heero wasn't sure. He ached to active his Breil to take a picture, but the distance was too far. He cursed mentally.

"Septem's roses always win on the local fairs," Chang said, voice amused. Even Heero couldn't suppress a snicker at the thought of the crude General with a bulk of roses at a garden fair.

"Please have a seat, Mister Lowe."

"Thank you." Chang still hadn't introduced himself and Heero didn't ask.

"The circuit conductors for the gundanium chips. What was your price?"

"Ten thousand a piece," Heero said. Chang held a cup of tea in his hand and didn't waver. He had his emotions under a rigid control.

"That's quite the price, Mister Lowe. Are you sure you aren't overrating your merchandise?"

"You're quite welcome to bargain, and of course, feel free to manufacture the conductors yourself. I haven't upped the price, if that's it what you mean. I had a deal with Dermail for two thousand conductors, for two million."

"Two million earth credits," Chang mussed. He put down the tea cup. "All right, you got yourself a deal. I'll take it over from Dermail, and I'm a man of my word."

"I rather see something more official, if you know what I mean." Heero took a sip of his own tea, if only to hide his slight surprise that Chang agreed so fast. That could only mean that they really had no other methods of producing the conductors themselves, or were quite desperate to get the conductors... _because of what? Lack of time? _

"I understand. I'll give you an advance of five hundred thousand."

"Five hundred thousand is just fine."

Chang smiled a mere tugging at his lips. "It's a pleasure doing business with you." He reached forward to the ebony coffee table, opened a small drawer and pulled out a check book. Heero waited until he was finished writing the check and accepted the paper.

"You can cash it at any bank on L4, no questions asked. If you want, I can have someone accompany you."

"No thank you," Heero shook his head. "It'll be quite all right. Do you already have some details about the delivery?"

"We are a bit dependant on the delivery of the chips ourselves, but I expect them any day now. We'll let you know immediately when you can deliver."

Heero pocketed the check. "Do you need help with the retrieval of the chips?"

"Thank you for your offer, Mister Lowe, but no, thank you. The retrieval is in good hands. Why don't you be our guest for the rest of the day? Dinner is at seven."

"Thank you," Heero said. It was no use to decline- it hadn't been a question either. Sipping the last of his tea, his thoughts drifted to Duo -he corrected himself- the braided man, who more than probably had something to do with the upcoming theft. He could only hope that Une had increased security around the stored chips, as he had recommended in his last e-mail.

Chang suddenly rose from his chair, a sign that the meeting was over and he bowed lightly to him.

-------------


	3. Chapter 3

Heero dwelled through the impressive mansion, awaiting dinnertime. The house was decorated in an exclusive Victorian style, but it looked like the interior decorator had crammed as much pompous objects as possible in each and every room. To top it off, whoever was responsible for it, had mixed in baroque Louis XIV and Louis XV furniture, as well as chromed every door handle and knob. It was an awful match, and it certainly wasn't Heero's taste - he couldn't imagine how much Septem had paid for this atrocity of an interior. He left the salon he had 'admired' and walked down the hallway, looking at the paintings, who seemed to be genuine paintings, caught in heavy, wooden, cheaply gilded frames. A little absent-mindedly, he continued to wander around, until he heard a loud clunk and an equally loud, yet irritated "Damn!"

It came from a door at the end of the hallway, and curiously Heero approached the slightly ajar door, and pushed it open. He could only see stairs, leading down; obviously to the basement. The lights were on and music played at a rather low level; opera music, judging from the first impression of bombastic tones and a low, yet female voice. Heero ventured down, taking the steps one by one, unable to keep his curiosity down. He heard someone bustling about, humming to the music.

He reached the end of the stairs, only to stare at the back of a man who was knelt down on the floor, hands picking up bits and pieces from something that Heero didn't recognize. He did recognize the thick, chestnut braid dangling over the man's shoulder, when he reached forward to pick up a shard. Still humming along to the music, he casually collected everything on the floor and got back on his feet, stretching his back.

"Stupid recirculation unit," he muttered under his breath and took a few steps to dump the broken equipment on a grey, metal table top.

Heero quickly contemplated what he should do; he better leave him, this Duo.. of course he remembered his name, he made it his point to remember people's name and faces as soon as he met or saw them, and he had no trouble at all remembering Duo. It was obvious that he was busy with something, and he didn't want to bother him; they weren't supposed to meet, not yet… but fate wasn't on Heero's side that day. Just as he was about to turn around, the heel of his shoe grinded on the stairs. It wasn't a loud noise, certainly not in comparison with the music, but Duo overheard it and whirled around, hands immediately shifting into a position a martial arts master would be jealous of. He hardly seem to move at all, he was that fast.

"My apologies," Heero said quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

The other relaxed, but just very slightly, and he didn't let go of his stance, hands still in the air. Heero recognized the _pyong-hi sogi, _a basic Tae Kwon Do stance - it looked even deadlier as Duo balled his hands into fists. It was a severe mistake to take him for a easy-going guy who liked to dance with girls; this man could kill him in a blink of an eye. Heero stiffened, his heart racing, his mind focusing on the situation at hand. He knew how to defend himself, and he would fight to the death if need be. Duo was expendable, like everyone else he would meet in this mansion; they were all rebels, criminals, terrorists, and he had Lady Une's orders to eliminate any threat to the United Earth Sphere Alliance…even if that meant killing someone he was potentially interested in.. in another way than just an enemy who needed to be defeated.

"I know you," Duo suddenly spoke, and relaxed with the same ease as it had taken him to jump into the stance. "You were at the charity ball, dancing with Hilde. Lowe, wasn't it?"

"Correct," Heero answered. "Odin, Odin Lowe."

"Duo Maxwell," he re-introduced himself. "So, you're doing business with Wufei?"

Heero was again taken aback by Duo's casual use of Chang's first name, but remembered that Duo was either European or American, what probably made him either uncaring for or unaware of the different use of first and last names in Japanese and Chinese culture. Chang wouldn't exactly appreciate being addressed in this familiar matter. Heero took the last step of the stairs and sauntered over to Duo, his eyes taking in his surroundings. The basement was a well-lit room stacked with crates and boxes; only a few of them were opened, and held equipment that he couldn't identify at first sight. There was also some equipment on the table, besides the broken recirculation unit Duo had put on it: a grapple, binoculars, some kind of hooks, climbing gear and a few other things Heero couldn't name, but it looked like tools of a thief to him…a very cunning thief. Duo had to be 'Shinigami', the man contracted to steal the two thousand Gundanium chips from the vault at the International Deposit.

"I'm only delivering the circuit conductors," Heero said, tone neutral. "They have unique abilities and are very versatile; they don't need to be manufactured in outer space either, unlike the gundanium chips."

"What are you implying?" Duo said, voice suddenly turning cold. "That the colonies are responsible for fabricating those chips? That the colonies are considering waging or starting up a new war?"

Heero put his hands up in defense. "I didn't imply anything. I only told you about my merchandise. I'm a trader, like anybody else here, okay?"

Duo showed a smile, baring his perfect white teeth, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"My apologies, if I've offended you. I take any accusation towards the colonies rather personally. I'm from L2 myself, you know."

L2 housed the most notorious rebel groups from the entire colony cluster. It was the home of bombings, revolts and fire fights, as well as the home of the most incompetent government Heero ever had seen. Outbreaks of violence were common in L2's daily life; Lady Une was right that the only good fortune about this particular colony was, that they didn't dispose over the heavy artillery and firepower like L3 did. L3 was an innocent toddler compared to L2.

Furthermore, this meant that Duo Maxwell was more likely than not a war orphan, growing up on the streets, and involved with rebel factions as soon as he was able to walk. The question remained: which rebel side was he on, or was he working for himself only? Had he taken Chang's side, or had he rented himself out to the highest bidder? Heero filed the information carefully away and kept a perfectly neutral expression on his face.

"I'm a war orphan myself, you know." He blurted it out, and immediately blinked in surprise. That wasn't what he'd meant to say. Duo leaned against the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was wearing a simple black shirt with black slacks, nothing identifying about him but his conspicuous braid. Heero didn't know if his words affected the other in any way.

"Fucking war," Duo muttered under his breath but Heero caught his words. No doubt, Duo was referring to the second and last war, called the Eve Wars. So many had become orphaned that the authorities had stopped counting them. It was almost as if he could see the wall building up in front of Duo. It wasn't going to be easy to get through to him.

"Hard times," he said. Duo looked at him, examining.

"What are your reasons?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you're a war orphan. Why are you in the business, with your conductors, specifically matching the unique abilities of gundanium chips?" Duo snorted. "What are your reasons, Odin Lowe, to deal with people like Wufei? Are you doing it for the highest bidder? To earn your next meal, or do you really think I don't know what conductors matching gundanium chips can do?"

The other's vehemence took Heero aback, and he knew he had to be careful. If he wanted to use Duo as his contact, he had to milk him for information as much as possible. For the first time in his career, it annoyed him that he thought of 'using' the other. He had used others for information a million times before.

"There is some self gratification, yes. I want to earn money just like anybody else."

"You don't have to be ashamed about it. I know people who sleep well at night when they earned their money killing others; they'd do anything to avoid becoming a poor, helpless orphan again."

"I don't kill people," Heero said and cringed inwardly. He had a double zero in his codename, signifying his license to kill - but that didn't mean he took pleasure in it. If anything, he tried to avoid casualties as much as possible; he wasn't like 006, who thought that the only good informer was a dead informer. He was nothing like Marquise. He wouldn't hesitate to kill the leaders behind an operation, the ones responsible for death and destruction, but he wasn't going to kill each and everyone crossing his path. If Duo turned out to be a major player in this, he'd inevitably have to face him…and maybe… kill him.

Heero shook his head as if he wanted to get rid of the thought. "I don't kill," he repeated, even if it was a lie.

"There are only victims in a war," Duo said. "On every side."

"You're confident that there will be another war," Heero said.

"What else do you think Wufei is going to do with your precious conductors? Modifying them into kitchen appliances?" Duo barked a short laugh, but there was no humor in it.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're working for him. So, what's your reason?"

Duo glared at him, and reached behind him, only to pull out black gloves out of nowhere; they'd been lying between all the equipment on the table. "Fair enough. I asked you about your reasons first."

He put on the smooth, skin tight gloves, taking his time. "I don't work for Wufei like that," he said. "I'm only here for a commission." He didn't elaborate. "I'm not sure what he's going to do with your conductors, I was joking about the kitchen appliances."

Showing Heero a watery grin, he clenched and unclenched his fists, the fabric of the gloves creaking.

"I have faith in him that he won't do what I think he's going to do. Wufei…he believes in honor and tradition, and he wants to live up to the standards of his colony."

"L5," Heero said.

Duo nodded. "His honor compels him to take revenge. L5 self-detonated, but they burdened their only survivor with a charge I can't imagine how it must feel like. He wants his revenge, but I.. don't believe he's ready to wage a war for it. He saw from up close and personal what war does. A war isn't going to give him his colony back, and his honor would be ashamed or something like that… he talked about 'resurrecting Nataku', but I don't know what that means."

"So where does that put you?" Heero tried to press the matter.

"Me? Somewhere along the bottom of the food chain." He grinned deviously, yet disarmingly. It looked good on him. Suddenly, he was interrupted by an annoying, shrill beeping noise.

"My pager." He took the device out of his formfitting black slacks and read the display. His grin was still firmly in place, and Heero couldn't see any changes in his face, whether the message was good or bad. Duo pocketed the pager and brushed some imaginary dust from his pants. "Well, I see you at dinner, Odin Lowe."

Heero recognized a dismissal whenever it was given and only nodded at Duo. The other already had turned around and rummaged through the equipment on the table. A little stupefied, Heero climbed up the stairs and emerged in the pompous hallway again. He needed to find a calm spot where he could make an urgent phone call.

* * *

The large rose garden was the only place where he wouldn't be disturbed. The mansion was quiet, the servants moved silently and discreetly, but Heero hadn't had the chance to debug the mansion and he didn't want to take the risk of being overheard. Taking out his Sony Ericsson Black Diamond, his fingers tapped at the speed dial button and he waited impatiently for his call to be answered.

"Good afternoon, Central Colony Cleaning Company, how may I help you?" A pleasant female voice rang out to him..

"Yes, this is Odin Lowe speaking. Connect me through to your Customer Service, please."

"One moment please." She almost sang the words to him.

"Central Colony Cleaning Company, Customer Service, how may I help you?" This voice was very familiar. Heero pressed the phone closer to his ear. How Lucrezia Noin kept all those fake companies, codewords and charades apart was a mystery to him, but she was very good at it - leaving a message with her was a 100% guarantee it would reach the person it was intended for.

"Yes, I'd like to file a complaint," he said. "My name is Lowe, Odin Lowe."

"What can I do for you, mister Lowe?"

"When I picked up my coat, it looked clean on the outside." These words would mean that he had arrived safely and that his mission was going smoothly so far. "However, when I wanted to wear it, I found large stains on the inside." The 'stains' would stand for 'problems'.

"What kind of stains, sir?"

"Black," Heero said. If he'd said 'red', it would obviously mean that victims would be involved.

"Large stains?"

He hesitated. How much of a threat was Duo Maxwell? If he got his hands on the gundanium chips, leading to the first steps in rebuilding the machines of war…

"Exceptionally large. I want you to take this up with your headquarters."

"I'm sorry, sir," Lucrezia's voice was flat, "there's no one at the headquarters at the moment."

"What!" Heero almost choked. Une was gone? He quickly tried to calculate the time difference between the L4 colony and Earth. It shouldn't make that much of a difference, and it was mid-day. Had she gone out for a meeting? "When can I talk to someone from headquarters?"

He needed to know if she had received his e-mails and followed up on his advice. Why had she left her office? "It's imperative that I talk to someone from headquarters today!"

"I'm sorry sir," Lucrezia Noin didn't sound apologetic at all. "At this moment, no one is in. If you bring back your coat at the earliest, convenient time as possible, we can have another department take a look at it."

Heero gritted his teeth. He needed to talk on a secure line with Une, and tell her to either relocate the gundanium chips or increase security at the International Depository. He needed ot know if she had followed up on his advice. He couldn't think of someone else in charge who could help him, and he would only call Relena when the Earth was about to implode.

"There's no time to bring in my coat," he answered curtly. If he'd ask for a replacement or a refund, Headquarters would take that as a sign to send in reinforcements. "I want to talk to someone from Headquarters, that it all!"

"I'm sorry, the manager isn't in right now. Can I take a message?"

_Goddamnit Lucrezia! _"Tell your manager that I will sue you all!" Heero closed his phone and released the breath he was holding. If anyone intercepted his call, they would think that Odin Lowe was an impatient man who was stirring up a fuss because of some coat that hadn't been dry-cleaned according to his wishes. Noin would know, however, that she needed to contact Une as soon as possible because there was trouble at hand. Major trouble. They had to prevent Duo Maxwell from stealing those chips. Those small things could be the start of an entire new war, no matter what Duo had said about Chang and his honor; gundanium chips were gundanium chips. Chang could make a fortune re-selling them. Maybe Une was preparing to set up a trap. Sometimes you could catch a small fish, and use him as a bait to lure the bigger fish. Heero wasn't so sure if Duo Maxwell was a small fish, though. If he could pull off walking out of the vault with two thousand Gundanium chips, he would prove to be a bigger fish than maybe Chang himself.

This was all that he could do, the rest was up to Une. He did trust Noin to pass the message to her, but there was something else bothering him, and it didn't have anything to do with Headquarters. He couldn't keep his mind off of Duo, and he didn't know why. Sure, he was good looking, and that braid was.. downright sexy. It had been a very, very long time since Heero Yuy had thought of anyone as 'sexy'. He had put his social life, his lovelife, on the backburner for his job. Relationships were a liability in his line of business, and yet this Duo Maxwell made him reconsider… _what nonsense! _He'd never considered a relationship before, heck, he had rejected the Queen of the World. Why would a thief like _him_ change his opinion on relationship? He was a secret agent. There was no match. It just couldn't be.

Heero went back into the mansion and bumped into General Septem, who was accompanied by a young, tall girl who was clearly far too young for the 'general'. The man with the grinding, nasal voice introduced her to him, but he forgot her name as soon as it was pronounced. She didn't really impress him with her giggling either. Unfortunately, she proved to be another guest for dinner, and Heero didn't want to think what her business with the general was, even if he could take a good guess.

* * *

After the dinner, for which Chang had excused himself at the very last moment, Heero wanted to return to his hotel. Duo had been pleasant company, even involving the bimbo at Septem's side in the conversation every now and then, but nobody had spoken about 'business'. As soon as Duo left the dinner table, there was no reason for Heero to stay any longer. He had hoped to get another chance to talk to Duo, but he had disappeared as soon as he had walked out of the room.

If the General was miffed about Chang making the deal with Heero, he didn't let it show when they said their goodbyes. Septem was just a contact, but a valuable one; without him, the meeting between Heero and Chang hadn't been possible. Nevertheless, when talking about fish, the 'general' was nothing but a small one; a very, very small one. Heero took great care not to ruffle the man's feathers further; any contact turning against you was another problem to deal with. The both of them were all pleasant and smiles when saying goodbye; Septem had called for a limousine to take Heero back to his hotel. Strangely enough, nobody accompanied him on the way back. He made a quick stop at the bank to cash Chang's check; it would cause suspicion if he didn't go after the money immediately. The teller studied the check - it was a small advance, but it still made for a hefty sum - and finally disappeared to get the money. Heero drummed with his fingers on the desk. He wondered for a brief moment why Chang had used a check, for crying out loud. Heero didn't expect to be handed the stereotypical briefcases with wads of money immediately, but most rebel factions kept Earth credits and hard cash around them, instead of using banks and checks. He'd have to investigate if the money he was about to receive, wasn't part of some kind of money-laundring scheme. He couldn't afford to get side-tracked; besides, money-laundring wasn't part of his job description. Heero had dealt with more delicate and dangerous missions than just a 'simple' money-laundry operation. He wasn't a secret agent for nothing, and he knew exactly why he was so good at what he did; he had his father to thank for it. His 'father'… why was he thinking of Odin Lowe right now? The man had been dead for almost over a decade, but Heero hadn't forgotten about him. It was because of him that he followed into his footsteps, and Heero had never considered any other career. With his talents, it was only a matter of time before he would end up being a secret agent.

He didn't want to think about it right now. Focus on the mission, that was the most important at the moment. He had to be careful; maybe Chang's people were around somewhere to keep an eye on him. Well, they could report their boss that he had cashed in his check already, which was to be expected. He didn't make sloppy mistakes. As he was waiting for the teller to return, he pondered about Une. There could be a million reasons why she was out of the office. Even Une took a break; not that Heero ever had used his vacation days. His secretary, Sylvia Noventa, had stopped reminding him of all his outstanding vacation time, because he never took it. She had stopped reminding him about getting a social life, too. And at a certain moment, she had stopped talking to him, safe for the necessary exchange of information; Heero Yuy didn't waste his time with chitchats.

Looking around him, he saw a few couples standing in line, talking to each other. Not all of them looked like happy couples; some didn't even look at each other. Heero wasn't blind to relationships. He just regarded them as a liability in his line of work, and he had used that as an excuse to not interact with potential lifepartners. He lived for his work, and he was satisfied with that - at least, he thought he was. Duo Maxwell popped up in his mind again, and it confused him. Would he be the one to change his life?

"Here you are," a female voice rang into his ear and he was startled out of his thoughts. The teller had returned and divided the money neatly into two thick envelopes, firmly sealed. "You only have to sign," she said as she shoved paper and pencil towards him.

As he signed, he mentally reprimanded himself for allowing his thoughts to drift off. He wasn't never caught off guard - that wasn't like him at all!

"Is there something else I can do for you, sir?"

"No thank you," he said, brusquer than he intended, and put the two envelopes in the inner pocket of his Armani overcoat. The teller scowled and called out loudly for the next person in line. Heero turned away from the desk, a little awkward with the heavy envelopes, tugging at the left side of his coat. Grumbling, he left the bank and went back to his hotel. Hopefully he could relax a little, take a hot shower, and prepare himself for what was to come. Heero already knew he would be keeping an eye out for any news concerning the International Depository. Either way, he had to be ready for action as soon as Chang called in on his merchandise.

The International Depository, located at MO-II, was a similar building to what was widely known on Earth as 'Fort Knox'. The small resource satellite had played a pivotal part in the history of war, and it was on MO-II that the capitulation and subsequent peace treaty had become official. Because of its significance, it had been turned into a memorial site. Relena had suggested that some memorials should be kept, to remind people what 'war was capable of'. It had been easy to send the Gundams into the sun for destruction, but she didn't want humanity to forget about the horrors of war. A visit to MO-II was obligated for school children _and _politicians; a large part of the building had been turned into a museum.

The other part of the building, what no school child or adult got to see, was the International Depository. MO-II didn't belong to the space colonies or to Earth. It was without leadership or government, and was as such regarded as 'neutral.' Many war-related objects were stored here, objects and information about the multiple parties involved in the wars, that simply shouldn't fall into the wrong hands. The gundanium chips had been brought there as well. It was impossible to break into the International Depository, and specifically its vault. If a thief would get past the first extremely intricate alarm, he had to deal with a lot more electronic locks, all interconnected, timed and under pressure - entire sections of the building would be irrevocably sealed off with solid steel doors if the tiniest shift in weight or pressure occurred.

Rebel groups had tried to break into the Depository to get their hands on mobile suit plans. They had used impressive gunpowder and massive laserbeam force; but only succeeded in scratching the front door. The building didn't need the presence of physical guards; it was guarded by the complicated alarm system, massive locks and a gigantic number of cameras. Heero didn't know why he was almost convinced that Duo might be the one to break into the Depository and walk out with the chips. It was simply unheard of; he wouldn't get past the first alarm, like many others before him. As soon as the alarm was compromised, armed forces would be there within a few hours; there was no need to hurry, due to the automatically sealed doors. The thief would be trapped, without any chance of escape.

So why was he worrying? Duo, if he was Shinigami, had managed to steal the Gundam building plans, which had been on display at one of the most heavily guarded museums of the world, just like MO-II. Stealing plans or chips, it would be the same to him. Heero recalled the details in the report Lady Une had given him. No sign of forced entry, no footprints, no fingerprints. The thief had disposed over the very specific codes for the alarm system, hence why Lady Une stated in her report that it had to be an inside job. The entire management, staff and guards had been replaced - and the rest was silence. Nichol had casually confirmed it was Shinigami who took the plans, but Heero didn't have confirmation on Duo being Shinigami.

He had to focus on the mission, he reminded himself. Duo Maxwell was distracting him, sidetracking him. It would be a massive blow to the rebel forces if Chang and his chips, and Duo as the masterthief, would be taken out, but he started to hesitate. Chang was the major player here, not Duo. Duo worked for him on a commission base. He wasn't any of his priorities, Chang was. He should use his time to infiltrate the group more, become best friends with Septem - which made him shudder - and find out more about Chang and what he was up to. He would either arrest Chang himself or call for backup, depending on how the mission went. Yes, he should focus on that. Tomorrow he'd call Nichol and set up another appointment. And if he saw Duo again… well… that depended on the circumstances. For now, Heero refused to think about him any longer; he had to focus on the mission. But Duo Maxwell was tenacious, and he kept thinking about him…and truth to be told, he didn't object to it too much.

* * *

The following days were frustrating. Chang refused any meeting, and when Heero finally got to talk to Septem again, he learned that Chang wasn't even at L4 anymore. The general refused to give him more information, and after buying Nichol a few beers, Heero found out that Chang had left at the very same evening, when he had excused himself for the dinner at Septem's mansion.

"He wasn't in a hurry, if you might think that," Nichol said. He enjoyed being the one asked for information, and the feeling of power that came with knowing something the other didn't. "Chang moves in slow-motion, but every step he takes, is extremely well-thought. He never takes a step without considering every option. He has a plan, I'm sure of it."

"What kind of plan might that be?" Heero asked. Sometimes Nichol bragged and talked too much, and his loose lips would come in handy. This time, the other was more aware of what Heero wanted, and with a big grin on his face, he put the beer in front of him, back on the table.

"Odin, Odin," he shook his head, still grinning, "you can't expect me to start blabbing about Chang's plans just because you bought me a couple of beers."

"Why didn't you tell me immediately that you don't know a thing about his plans?" Heero commented dryly. The other scowled, but it didn't sour his mood.

"I know my position, and Chang isn't going to confide in me. However…" He reclined into his comfortable seat, "he's best friends with Shinigami, and as soon as he brings him the gundanium chips, he's ready to take his next step."

"Shinigami must be very talented to get into the International Depository," Heero said. He took a sip of his wodka-martini. Too much martini, not enough wodka. "I heard that once you set off the alarm, all sections of the building are sealed off automatically."

"He knows that - what do you think he is, a petty burglar? There's nothing he can't find his way into, state of the art security or not." Nichol picked up his beer again and took a firm swig. "It's not any of your business anyway," he muttered. "You're only here for the conductors."

"I like to get to know the people I work with better," Heero answered deadpan. He didn't owe Nichol any explanation, but he was cautious; no need to rile anyone. The man scratched at his sideburns.

"Yeah, you're right about that," he said. "Give me another beer, then!"

* * *

Contrary to what many people might think or believe, the life of a secret agent isn't that exciting. It's often boring - waiting for the next move to make, carefully setting up people against each other, like moving pawns on a giant chess board, calculating who was going to do what and when - and the outcome was always different than one expected. Being a secret agent and working undercover didn't entail luxury and decadence. The Star hotel, where Heero resided for now, was fairly crappy, certainly to L4's standards; no cockroaches, but no clean towels or bedlinens every day either.

Going undercover was a double-edged sword, in any situation. People would expect him to live a swanky lifestyle, as much money he was supposedly making with his trade, but on the other hand, people would expect him to live low, to stay under the radar, because of the very nature of his trade. Heero had set up his cover perfectly, of course - anyone checking up on his background would see what he wanted them to see: Odin Lowe, with criminal records on smuggling and counterfeit goods, also a few arrests but not enough to hold him in jail for an extended period of time. Heero had made sure that his cover persona wasn't popping up on the grid too often; too many lies would be hard to remember, and why make things difficult? His cover was good and solid, no need to add superfluous, elaborate layers to it; keep it simple, and keep out of trouble.

He pulled out his laptop and booted it up. This hotel wasn't that low-quality that it didn't offer free access; he set everything up so he could access the United Earth Sphere Alliance's secured system through a private, protected satellite. No need to allow other people to snoop around these lines either. As Heero was waiting for the connection to be made, he drummed with his finger on the tabletop. Should he tell Lady Une that he'd seen Barton and Winner at Septem's garden? For all that he could see they were just taking a walk; but a walk in the garden of someone known for being on the…less than perfect side of life? If Winner was as stupid as to risk his solid reputation…maybe he couldn't care less, for whatever reason? He had associated himself with the Barton Foundation as of late, which could be easily explained from a business point of view; Winner possessed resource satellites and mining operations, Barton the heavy machinery. Maybe it was just a matter of time before they would associate, Barton delivering the machinery needed for Winner's operations. It was just too much of a coincidence, and Heero didn't like coincidences. He made a firm mental note of it - now he had two distractions going, Duo on one side, Winner and Barton on the other side.

Logging in took him quite some time; there was a lag in the connection and he entered his codes carefully, and checked them twice over. Finally he was granted access to the secured line and soon enough, a message popped up on his screen. He was to contact Lady Une immediately, urgently, no matter what time. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach; Heero was sure he knew what this was going to be about.

Keying in another set of codes, he checked and double-checked to make sure the line was really, really secure. The secret service had its own satellite for sending and receiving messages, video and audio - but Heero didn't trust anything he didn't program himself. His father had passed on some paranoia to him, but he was rather safe than sorry. His fingers danced over the keyboard, as his eyes were glued to the screen. The video connection was being established, now he was knocking on Lady Une's virtual door. It was an annoyance that there was a lag in the connection, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Image was coming through; Une was saying something, but the audio wasn't in synch. Frustrated, he tried another frequency, but the words came in scrambled. Une kept talking, but then tilted her head a little as she didn't receive any response. She suddenly turned around and grabbed something behind her. It was a piece of paper, and she wrote something down, holding it up in front of the camera.

"Chips stolen" was all that she had written down, but it was enough.

"Idiots!" Heero said out loud, in the belief that Une couldn't hear him either. "Totally unacceptable! Why did you ignore my warning the first place?"

Lady Une put up her hand. "Don't you dare, Yuy!" Her voice came in a little distorted, but audible. The reception had been finally established. "I just had the scathing of a lifetime, courtesy of our Queen, so don't you start all over me again."

"This would never have happened if you had taken notice of my warning." Heero had the decency to blush, if only a little. She would scrub his ears about his "Idiots" later.

"Damn it, Yuy!" He was shocked. He had never heard Lady Une speak a foul word. "What do you think that I was doing? Nothing? Sitting at the beach for fun? My hands are tied, Yuy. I've taken good notice of your warning, but I had to face two ministers who thought it wouldn't be necessary to send forces to the International Depository because of it supposedly invulnerability. There was nothing more I could do!"

"What do you mean?"

She took off her glasses and started rubbing the bridge of her nose, suddenly looking very tired. "I spoke to the Minister of Defense and the Vice Foreign Minister. They voted against sending forces to MO-II, as they both weren't comfortable with it - it could be seen as a declaration of war, or so they said. You know how fragile the relationship between Earth and the Colonies is, and sorry to say, but our Vice Foreign Minister isn't Darlian."

She was referring to Relena's father, who had been widely known - and respected - for his diplomatic and pragmatic skills. After his murder and Relena becoming Queen of the World, there was no one else suitable for this particular position; no one was good enough to match Darlian, and it showed. The current Vice Foreign Minister, Heero didn't even know his name as the man hadn't left any impression with him, was scared that everything could be interpreted as a declaration of war.

"Protecting the International Depository isn't a declaration of war," Heero said, agitated. "It's to protect people from.."

"I _know_," Une interrupted him. "The Minister of Defense wasn't willing to free up armed forces, and didn't see the necessity in sending them. He completely relied on the alarm and defense system of the Depository itself. He wouldn't even consider that one man could succeed in breaking into the vault."

The Minister of Defense was Marshall Noventa, an elderly man who had lived through the wars and was fully deserving of his title, contrary to 'Duke' Dermail and 'General' Septem. His granddaughter Sylvia was Heero's secretary. Noventa had passed up on the offer of the post of Vice Foreign Minister as it included traveling and much tension, and at his age, he didn't feel up to it. As Minister of Defense, he had a steady life close to his granddaughter, his only living family.

"Is there any surveillance material? Camera footage?"

She continued rubbing. "Yuy, the thief was an invisible ghost. We have nothing of him, no footprints, no fingerprints. Nothing."

_Exactly as when the Gundam building plans were stolen. _"But those chips… they have to weigh a lot!"

"Gundanium is pretty heavy, certainly when it comes to two thousand chips." Une's voice had definitely taken a sour tone. "They were stacked in large boxes - he took the chips out and left the boxes, but we have no idea what he used to transport them. The only thing we have is that, according to G., he used equipment that is so state of the art that he has to invent it yet."

G. was a close partner of J. and was responsible for at least half a dozen inventions for the secret agents, at least the double zero numbers. Heero frowned. He had seen something of what he thought was Duo's equipment; the grapple, the mounting gear - it hadn't looked that much state of the art to him.

"What did he use?"

"G. has a good clue on the weapon," Une said and reached behind her again, leafing through a stack of papers. "Weapon, equipment…he cut through the roof and straight into the vault with it. I don't know what to call it." She held the papers up in front of the camera. "Here."

Heero squinted and took screencaps of what she was showing. It looked too bizarre to be true.

"Impossible," he said. "Was G. high on something?"

"Don't ever ridicule their knowledge, Yuy," Une snapped, but her voice lacked the scathing tone she used when she disagreed.

"As you can see, he has used an above average sharp weapon. Notice the curving and the smooth cuts on the surface? G. thinks it's a scythe-shaped weapon. A thermal scythe of some sorts, as the roof is made out of solid titanium and judging from the burn marks, it went through it like butter."

"Impossible," Heero repeated.

"What is your objection?"

"The vault is the heart of the International Depository, and it's sunk into a basin with a laser alarm. According to this, G says he's more than 100% sure the thief used the thermal scythe to open the vault. How can he operate a thermal scythe under water?"

"That's up to you to find out, Yuy. You warned us of the theft in advance, it's not your fault that two Ministers are too stubborn or too stupid to see the very danger under their nose. I want you to establish contact with the thief, get to know him better, and finally deliver him to us. We have some catching up with him to do."

"No!" Heero all but shouted. He felt his face flush when Une looked at him, surprise clearly written in her eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"We.. we can't apprehend him just yet," he defended himself weakly. "It would ruin… my contacts in the business," he continued. "Besides, Maxwell works on a commissioner basis, he probably doesn't know a thing about the people he work for."

"Maxwell, hm?" Une's sour mood was lifted, she even sounded enthusiastically. "So you've met him personally already. Good work!"

Heero cringed, and cringed some more. He had to salvage the situation, no matter what. Fortunately, he hadn't spilled Duo's first name.

"Forget it," he said a little too lightly, "there isn't a single shred of information to be found about him. War orphan, L2, need I say more?"

"You're the only one who knows what he looks like, Yuy," Une said sternly. "Don't tell me that I have to draw you a picture. If this guy really doesn't exist like you say, you're your own only lead to him. You know how he is and what he looks like. I need you to stay in touch with him and retrieve those chips, before things really get out of hand."

"I strongly advise against it," Heero said. He was veritably sweating. If Une made the connection to the person who stood next to Chang on the picture in the Operation "Zero System" files... "We're ruining golden opportunities if we do this."

"Are you really going against my orders?" Lady Une sounded amused and offended. The audio signal still wasn't in synch with the video, so he saw her moving her lips way before her words reached him. "I don't care if you have to crawl into bed with him, you make sure those chips are returned, and that he's properly brought to justice for his crimes. Do you understand?"

If she could see his furious blush despite the less than stellar video, she ignored it, for which he was thankful.

"I understand," he answered dutifully.

Une didn't dignify him with an answer, reached for her keyboard and the connection was cut. The video image turned black and it was suddenly very quiet, very eerie in the room. Heero heaved a sigh and put his earphones down. Mimicking his boss, he started rubbing the bridge of his nose. It felt like this mission was going to much more difficult and intense than he thought. _Focus on the mission, that is what you do best._

Somehow he couldn't convince himself.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning the receptionist of the Star Hotel delivered a message for Heero under his alias, Odin Lowe. A phone number was scrawled onto a piece of paper, and Heero called it.

"Hey Lowe, perfect timing," he was greeted by a far too familiar voice.

"Nichol," Heero answered, sour. The man wasn't on his favorites list for a reason.

"Lowe, can you come over right now? I need to discuss something and it has to be done in person." Heero refrained from heaving a deep sigh. Nichol loved to play the big bad guy, but in reality his influence was next to nothing. Still, he often had details of transactions and meetings that left Heero wondering exactly what kind of big bad guy Nichols was actually playing. One thing was sure, he wouldn't shed a tear when Nichol's ass landed in prison. As it was, Heero had to keep his contacts warm and it wouldn't do him good to refuse Nichol's request.

"Very well," he said, "I'll be at the Sphere Lounge soon." He hung up before Nichols could say something and left the Star Hotel in search for a cab. It didn't take him longer than twenty minutes to reach the bar, and he searched Nichols out, at his favorite spot: all the way in the back.

"Hey Lowe! Glad you could make it." Nichol and another goon -Walker, Heero's sharp mind provided the name of the young man next to Nichol- greeted him as if welcoming a long lost friend home. It made Heero's skin crawl; what were they so ecstatic about?

"Nichol, Walker," he greeted them curtly in return. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Septem asked if you could advance the transaction. Plans have been sped up, you see."

"I told him several times before, no. I can't. Good for you that you have retrieved the gundanium chips, but I can't magically conjure the conductors out of thin air. I had a transaction date set with Dermail, and there's nothing I can change about that."

Walker scowled, Nichol shrugged. "Leave it to Shinigami to steal the things that are deemed to never be stolen."

Heero remained silent. He didn't have a single scrap of evidence to prove that Duo was Shinigami. It was for the better to not comment on it. An awkward silence followed; Heero refused to sit down and used his height to tower over Nichol. There was nothing wrong with sending out a strong signal of self-confidence.

"I can't believe you're not even going to listen," Nichol said, exasperated. "The General himself wants you to act quicker, and you're refusing? I can't believe it! You had set up everything with Dermail-"

"And exactly like I agreed with the Duke, it's going to be," Heero interrupted him rudely. "I have my own manufacturers to deal with. Let me repeat: I can't deliver any sooner than the agreed date. More so, praise your lucky stars that I'm not even postponing the date. I had to lay low for a while after Dermail was assassinated. I don't know if the killer was anyone of your precious group, but if there was any delay, you'd only have to thank yourself."

"You still think it was one of us?"

"It could be anyone." Heero raked a hand through his unruly hair. "I don't know Dermail's boss, even though I can take a good guess." For good measure, he glared at Nichol, who tried to keep up his neutral expression.

"I don't see what could be achieved by wasting Dermail. Well, I'll pass the message on to Septem, even though he's not going to be happy about it."

Heero's mind worked at top speed. The Secret Service had carefully prepared for the transaction date, which was nothing less than a covert operation to apprehend as many people involved as possible. This was Heero's job, and he had to make sure everything went according to plan. He couldn't change anything about the date or the transaction; it was endangering his undercover persona if he went out of his way to contact Headquarters. Everything had been planned, to the finest detail; now wasn't the time for trouble to arise. If the Secret Service flushed out an entire rebel organization with this bust, it would mean a great victory for the ESUN, and Earth would be safe.

"Well, if you're so hesitant to tell him, I'll be happy to deliver the message himself." Heero made sure to add enough disdain to his voice as to bait the other man. He didn't fail.

"If you want to lose your head, it's fine by me." Nichol snorted, but Heero could see the relief in his eyes. Yes, sure he wanted to play with the big bad boys, but he was still afraid of any repercussions, and valued his life more than anything. Nichol would never rise in the ranks. Delivering the message to Septem in person wasn't Heero's main priority. He wanted to see Duo again, and his best chance was to meet him at the mansion. His stomach did a strange flip-over in his body. As far as the Secret Service was concerned, Duo was a criminal and it was Heero's prerogative to get him involved in the transaction, so he could be arrested. As far as Heero was concerned… Duo was still a thief, and he had broken the law, but he had nothing to do with the rest of the rebels, hadn't he?

"I was about to go to the mansion anyway," Nichol kept talking and Heero quickly focused his attention back on him. "You can come along."

"Sounds perfect to me," Heero said and waited for both Nichol and Walker to get up. _You're getting too personal. Just focus on the mission, right?_

Nichol whistled a non descriptive tune as they arrived at the Septem mansion. Heero was told to wait by someone from the serving staff, and he killed a little time by looking at the huge paintings. Art was a luxury in his lifestyle; he barely had the time to look at and value it. The portraits were done in a renaissance style, depicting family and Septem himself in glorious battles. Who in his right mind was so fond of war? Heero realized of course that these paintings had nothing to do with modern warfare; it was just a painting style. He simply didn't like it.

He wondered how much longer Septem was going to make him wait. Maybe he could just wander off and look for Duo, but fate was smiling upon him; it was Duo himself who walked down the hallway and noticed Heero first.

"Hey," he said, hoisting a large backpack over his shoulder.

"So you returned from your mission?"

"My work here is done." Duo grinned.

"You've got to fill me in on the details. How did you do it?"

Duo didn't deny, or confirm anything. "You want me to divulge the secrets of my trade? Tsk, tsk, Mister Lowe." His grin broadened, though.

"I never thought that someone would actually be able to penetrate the vault and rob it blind."

"Ah well. I guess nothing is really safe, is it?"

An awkward silence fell. Heero noticed he wanted to twiddle his thumbs, while he was marveling at the fact that his tongue had just dried up. His rational mind took over.

"Aren't you going to stick around for the conductors? To see how they match with the gundanium chips?"

Duo wrinkled his nose. "No, I don't think so. My work is done here," he repeated and made a movement as if to stalk past Heero.

"I have an appointment with Septem," Heero blurted out, "and I'm going to advise him your presence at the transaction. You can identify the conductors and their compatibility with the chips."

"I don't care if they're compatible or not," Duo answered. "I don't know what you want from me, Lowe, but my work ended last night, and I want to go home."

"Home?" _With Hilde? _

Duo arched an eyebrow. "I told you before I was from L2."

A terse nod. "Yes, that's true. I didn't know you had a… home there."

"It's actually a scrap yard," Duo suddenly winked at him. "So when you visit, don't expect any fancy villas or mansions like this one."

"Visit?" Heero almost stuttered, but then a servant showed up to tell him that Septem can see him now, and his conversation with Duo was cut short. Duo only raised his hand in some sort of gesture of goodbye, and he was gone. The relief that washed over Heero enabled him to withstand two hours of Septem ranting and snarling.

* * *

Despite Septem's attempts to speed things up, the moment of the transaction came soon enough to Heero. He had prepared this for months when he was still dealing with Dermail, and with the rapidly approaching moment, the adrenaline started pumping through his body. There wasn't going to be any HeeroYuy tonight, only Odin Lowe, the merchant with the circuit conductors. His persona was going to be just as surprised as everyone else when the Secret Service showed up. He checked his Smith and Wesson .28 in its holster and made sure his clothing fit perfectly, as to not to reveal the weapon. Certainly the rebels would assume he was carrying a piece, there was no need to call extra attention to it. He checked his watch and took a deep breath. After one look at his reflection in the mirror, he straightened his shoulders and walked out of his room of the Star Hotel.

The night was dark and clear of any stars. L4's warehouse district was brightly lit, but the most northern corner wasn't reached by any light. Septem had his own reasons to choose this place; Heero didn't care. The mansion was too obvious, and if the General wanted to do his business in a cheesy warehouse district, so let him be. He was like steel, his back as straight as a ruler, his blue eyes piercing. Behind him were two crates with conductors, rigged by J. They were just the bait, and not supposed to work. After tonight, their existence wouldn't matter. Even though he couldn't see them, Heero knew about the snipers and the arrest team, lying in waiting. Her Majesty's Service would come through for its name; Relena would be reassured and safe, the entire Earth would be safe.

A Mercedes Bentley drove up to him, the headlights dimmed. Heero waited patiently for Septem to step out; as soon as the car grinded to a halt, Walker all but hurried out to keep the door open for the General. Heero was about to talk when he saw the third person get out of the car and his jaw went slack. _Duo! _His eyes went wide. The thief turned around as he slammed the door unceremoniously shut; 'pissed off' wasn't even a start to describe his angry attitude. _What in the hell is he doing here?_

"Where are the conductors?" Septem's voice grated even more on him than usual, as Heero had only eye for Duo. He caught Heero's look and pursed his lips like a pouting child; his entire demeanor expressed irritation and anger. Forcefully, Heero tore his attention away from him.

"The two crates over here, General. Careful. They're wrapped for protection."

"They're not explosive, are they?" Septem snorted. Heero glared at him.

"Treat them with care or you'll find them damaged beyond repair," he sneered. "We're talking intricate and fragile technique here, General." He managed to put the most disdain in the last word. "Be rough and they're unbalanced and worthless for your gundanium circuits."

"Hn," was the only answer he received. Septem made a gesture with his hand and Walker moved forward to lift up the lid of the first crate. There was something in Duo's hand; something folded in a piece of cloth. Heero was about to ask, when another Mercedes drove onto the terrain. Duo didn't pay attention to the second car and folded the cloth back, revealing a gundanium chip in his hand. Walker had unpacked one of the conductors, carefully taking it out of the protective wrapper. Working together, they clicked and matched the chip and conductor together. Walker nodded, satisfied.

"Perfect match. It's the right stuff, General."

Septem grunted and moved his gloved hand up. At the sign, the doors of the second Bentley opened and four men spilled out of the car. Flunkies, Heero dismissed them from his mind as soon as he saw them. The General spoke to him. "Perfect work, Mister Lowe. I'll recommend you to the Foundation for your reliable deliveries."

_Foundation? Bingo! _Heero gave a nod, and waited for Septem to extract a heavy envelope from his uniform. He accepted the concealed money. "Thank you General, it was nice doing business with you."

Septem motioned to the flunkies. "Load the crates in the car," he said and turned around to walk back to the limousine. "Be careful! If you break anything, I'll have your head!"

Heero watched his retreating back, along with Walker's. Duo turned on his heels to leave as well, a frown marring his face. Heero slowly slipped his fingers into his jacket for his gun. Any moment now. As soon as the flunkies grabbed the crates…

"Freeze! You're under arrest!" A booming voice echoed over the terrain and three large spotlights were flicked on, flooding the area with hellish bright light. Walker and Duo immediately jumped away and the next second all hell broke lose. Heero had no time to ask himself where all the gunfire was coming from - until he saw that Septem's flunkies had all been armed with AK-47's. They were happily firing in all directions, uncaring where the voice had come from. Return fire was met with more fire - the bullets were flying around, far too close to Heero's liking.

He ducked to the side and looked around him, taking in his surroundings. Apart from the men with the AK-47's, and Septem disappeared to wherever corner of the terrain, Heero saw Duo with a heavy Magnum .44, but he wasn't firing. Walker, next to him, was fiddling with his Sig Sauer p226 and just put a new clip into the weapon.

"Drop the weapons! You're surrounded!" The megaphone was barely audible above the gunfight. The terrain was stormed by the arrest team, cornering the apparently weaponless General, who cowered in the corner of the building.

"Alex! Muller! Help me! Get the conductors!" He cried out, hands up as if he was already surrendering. The flunkies had never gotten close to the crates with the conductors, but to his horror, Heero saw Duo moving towards them. The men addressed by the General were covering Duo, who had almost reached the first crate. Walker was following him, intent to take the second crate.

"Leave them! It's not worth it!" Heero yelled out as he stood up. Duo shot him an incredulous look, clearly not understanding as his hand touched the lid of the crate.

"Stop!" He aimed his weapon at Duo, and his incredulous look merged into a bitter, angry one. A look that wasn't fitting his open, violet eyes who had shone with mirth and warmth. There was no warmth in them, only coldness, bitterness, anger and… death. Walker went down first, and then Duo widened his eyes as blood splattered all over his face, and it wasn't all Walker's.

"No!" Heero cried out, too loud for his own good. He ran forward as Duo slumped over the crate with conductors, the unreality of what was happening turning time into slow-motion. The doors of the adjacent warehouses opened all of the sudden with military-clad men running out, ambushing the arrest team, outnumbering them. Heero didn't notice. He didn't notice the bullets flying around, the hell around him with men crying out in pain or in victory, he didn't notice the eyes that followed him, he didn't notice someone plucking at his sleeve as he shrugged it off, still moving forward, reaching for Duo. He grabbed him at the shoulder, shaking him harshly.

"Duo! Duo, answer me! Duo!" Somewhere in the cacophony he picked up Septem's voice, yelling and screaming, but he didn't even bother to make out the words. Duo looked up at him, blood on his face as he looked not-understanding at Heero. It had to be a shock, and Heero shook him some more, his training forgotten, his calmness and composure forgotten.

"I'm getting you out of here!" Heero hollered and moved his hand to grab Duo's upper arm, but he didn't make it. He didn't even manage to lift Duo up. Something exploded close to him and the force knocked him soundly off of his feet, rolling over the harsh, gritty ground, his skin ripping apart, pain exploding all over his body. Darkness claimed him even before he smacked into the unrelenting wall of the warehouse.

* * *

Silence. Heero opened his eyes and blinked. He was looking at a carved ceiling, with lots of curls and circles. He wasn't in a hospital, or in a prison cell. Heero tried to get up, but a wave of nausea hit him and he fell back in the cushions. No IV drips, no machinery beeping. This wasn't a sick bay, or a hospital room. Where was he? His eyes fell on the mahogany nightstand. The antique brass clock on it ticked very, very faintly, and the baroque lamp next to it was tacky enough to make his head hurt even more. This had to be Septem's mansion.

If it was true, why would the General even bother bringing him back to the mansion? Had he figured out Heero's real identity and was he being held hostage, or held prisoner for further interrogation? So many questions, it made his head spin. Heero decided it was better to get some rest, for now. He was going to need all his energy and his strength if he'd been found out. The door opened and he feigned sleep.

"Mister Lowe?" A kind female voice. "Mister Lowe, are you awake?"

He opened his eyes to look at her. The elderly woman was dressed in an old-fashioned nurse uniform including a large apron and a pristine white, small cap on her head, covering a bun of light grey curls.

"Yes," he said.

"Good. You're very lucky to still be alive, young man." Her eyes showed a little sadness; this woman had seen a lot of people getting hurt and injured. He wondered how she came to work for Septem. "I don't know everything and I don't want to know everything. All that's important to me, is to get you healthy and back on your feet again."

"What happened?" Heero asked. She shook her head.

"They mentioned explosion to me, but I don't know the details. That's for you… grown men to talk about." The disapproval in her voice was meant for the business the 'men' were involved in, he was sure of it. "Your ears will be ringing for a while."

He had no other choice but to nod; he had already noticed the distinctive sound in his ears.

"Duo," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Duo. How's Duo?" he asked.

She proceeded to check his vitals instead of answering his question. The nausea he was experiencing had nothing to do with his own physical injuries.

"Tell me, please," he whispered. He had to know.

"He's alive, Mister Lowe. Now you have to rest. You will have those waves of nausea for quite a while, I'm afraid. You can also feel unbalanced or disorientated."

When Heero didn't say a thing, she continued: "I will check up on you twice a day."

"Any messages from the General?"

She wiggled her eyebrows. "The General? I haven't seen him, I'm sorry. No more questions now, rest."

He had no other choice, and when he closed his eyes, sleep overtook him much faster than he expected.

* * *

"How's he doing?"

"Shush, Mister Maxwell. Your voice is too loud."

"How's he doing?" Duo again, his voice much softer. It wasn't difficult to recognize his voice, and Heero pretended to be asleep for some longer.

"Pretty well, considering the proximity of the explosion. He needs to rest, as his injuries will take a while to heal. Now step aside, Mister Maxwell, you're blocking my way."

"Sorry about that."

Heero opened his eyes. "What's with all the noise?"

The nurse sent a scathing look at Duo, but he merely shrugged. "I was curious to see how you were doing. We need to talk, you know."

Another scathing look, and this time Duo cowered a little. The nurse was clearly not pleased with his visit to her patient. Heero quickly gauged Duo, but he couldn't see anything in particular about him; had the gun missed him?

The nurse finally finished with the dish. "Try to eat something," she admonished him before leaving the room. Duo used his left hand to turn the plate around, moving the small tray it was on, closer to him. Heero knew he was right-handed, and frowned. Duo didn't elaborate.

"Go ahead, eat. I'll do the talking."

Heero picked up the cutlery. It wasn't standard hospital food and he dug in with gusto.

"Walker didn't make it," Duo said and awaited Heero's reaction. He looked up from his plate.

"I'm sorry. Was he a friend of yours?"

Duo cocked his head. "Not really, but still. I think Nichol is the one mourning him most; especially because Walker didn't have a rank or title he can prey upon. Poor Nichol, he tries so hard." His sarcasm was obvious and Heero hid a snicker behind his hand.

"Septem is gone, too. Botching the transaction was good enough to send him on permanent vacation."

Heero choked on a potato. That was something he hadn't expected. Duo had said 'botching'. His mind refused to work at normal speed, and he couldn't connect the dots together. His fork grated over his plate.

"Who replaces him?" He finally asked.

"Khushrenada. Ever heard of him?"

Heero racked his brain. "Wait a minute… Khushrenada, as in Treize Khushrenada? I think I've heard from him before."

"Old European royalty or something," Duo mussed, looking a bit sour. "When you've got a solid financial back up, it's always easier to rise up in the ranks. Some people rely on their skills, others on their heavy bags of gold." He shrugged as if he was talking about the weather. "Anyway, Khushrenada is a pretty big boss now. I think he's addressed as His Excellency."

"What is it with all these people and their titles?"

"I don't think their titles are as preposterous as you think. They have a lot of ties in the old nobility; genealogy helped them to dig up the titles of their ancestors. Our good Queen Relena didn't want large ranks of nobility to outdo the general public," he put on a comical face, "so she abolished every rank and title. Not something the folks liked, mind you."

Heero chewed slowly. He could recall Relena's decision to abolish title and rank as to create more equality. In the line of her Total Pacifism policy, she didn't want any distinction between 'old royalty' and 'citizens'. She wasn't really pleased with her own title of Queen of the World as she wanted to be addressed to as Relena, but she understood that the very people she reigned wanted to bestow her with something that made her exactly different because of what she was: the Queen.

"Relena is a pretty Queen and smart too, but this wasn't very nice of her to do," Duo snickered. "All those poor wealthy dukes and earls, suddenly without title, and forced to mingle with the commoners. It was quite a shock!"

"Don't tell me they want to impeach Relena because of that!"

"Peh, no, of course not. I don't think Khushrenada has anything to do with the Peacecraft woman."

"So what's with all the gundanium chips?"

"Building mobile suits of course. Increasing the armaments."

"For a war against who?"

Duo grimaced. "For the highest bidder."

Silence. Heero moved some peas around on his plate. He wasn't very hungry anymore and his head ached from the amount of information Duo had provided. He had to contact HQ and inform Une of everything that had transpired. He ignored Duo stealing a potato from his plate, a little awkward with his left hand.

"About the transfer…" Duo picked up the conversation again.

"What about it? Did you manage to salvage the conductors, or…"

"We got all of them, but not in one piece. That's where you come in."

"Huh?"

"Khushrenada figured that as you're the one who delivered them, you're also the one who can repair them."

"I'm a trader, not a repair shop!"

"Tell that to Khushrenada yourself. He wants to see you as soon as you feel better. He figured that you have enough knowledge of the conductors to repair them. Only forty of the two thousand are broken. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about," Duo switched topics. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life."

"I didn't save your life."

"So it was your clone who ran towards me under heavy bullet fire? I clearly recall it was you who tried to get me up."

"Well eh… if I really saved your life, the bullet wouldn't have hit you. Where were you hit anyway?"

Duo opened up his jacket to reveal his right shoulder and upper right arm, firmly taped in. "Clear and clean flesh wound. It still hurts, but I've experienced worse."

"Worse?"

Duo's eyes seemed to harden, a dark shadow cast upon his face. "You reached out for me in a life threatening situation and that's enough for me. I thank you once again."

"Don't mention it. Hilde will be glad that her boyfriend still is one piece."

Suddenly, Duo threw his head backwards and laughed uproariously. Heero was inclined to laugh with him, just of the sheer heartiness that shone through Duo's laugh.

"What's the joke?"

"You thought Hilde was my girlfriend?" He laughed again. "I understand. We're good and have known each other for so long. It's a common misconception."

Heero realized his face was as hot as a stove and he wanted to cry out in sheer joy. Duo mistook his heated face for embarrassment and patted him on the hand.

"Don't feel bad about it. If I hadn't told you, you would've heard it from someone else. No offense taken."

Heero almost clenched his fist from the touch. If he had been a seven year old, he would've said something like "I'm never going to wash this hand again", but he refrained. The news that Duo and Hilde weren't a pair excited him with joy.

"Well I should leave you to your rest," Duo said, "before Mrs. StrictNurse comes back and kicks me out. I'm sure Khushrenada will pay you a visit. Think about what I've said, okay?"

He was out of the door before Heero could answer. Oh, he was going to think about what Duo had said - but not about the part with the conductors.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't Treize Khushrenada who came to visit him, but no one less than Chang Wufei. Heero had spent a few days carefully starting up daily exercises and the nurse was satisfied with his progress, as long as he didn't overexert himself. She had brought him some books and magazines but no newspapers, and there was no TV in his room. He was completely in the dark about the current situation in the world, but he was more upset that Duo hadn't visited him anymore. Heero was brooding on plans to get into touch with him again, when he was startled out of his thoughts by a firm knock on the door.

"Enter!"

Hoping to see Duo again, Heero sat up straight in his bed. He refrained from showing any disappointment when he saw Wufei.

"Lowe, how are you." It wasn't a question. Wufei walked up to Heero's bed and casually pulled a chair towards him to sit down. "I take it Maxwell informed you about the change of plans and the state of the conductors."

"Yes, he did."

"Excellent. I've scheduled a meeting with you and Khushrenada this evening. He will fill you in on the details."

"I didn't expect seeing you again. Something keeping you here?"

Something flashed in Wufei's eyes, an emotion so brief that Heero was unable to recognize it. "I have obligations, like everybody does. Don't worry about it, Lowe. Don't meddle with things that don't concern you."

"I didn't mean to pry."

"Then don't pry." Wufei made an impatient gesture with his hand. "Khushrenada appreciates proper clothing and etiquette. I'll make sure you'll fit every requirement he demands of the people who work for him. His Excellency shouldn't be disappointed with his men."

Heero was about to ask what he meant by that, but Wufei already rose from his seat, signing that the conversation was over. He left the room as briskly as he entered it, leaving Heero to ponder.

So, he was still Odin Lowe. Wufei had used his last name twice, and had given no indication that Heero's cover had been blown. Why else would they have bothered to bring him back to the mansion and nurse him back to health? The players had changed, but the stakes were still the same. He had to contact HQ, the sooner the better. He had to find out what was going on. He had to see Duo again. What had happened, exactly? Why had Duo even been at the transaction? Septem… Heero wouldn't shed a tear, but the man had been coldly eliminated for his failure. Walker dead, Duo injured, conductors damaged. So many questions, and how much time remained to answer them all?

The only thought standing out to him was _Hilde and Duo weren't a couple_. He could make his move, but he didn't even know if Duo would respond. Besides, the mission… but the mission was fading into the background as soon as it concerned Duo Maxwell. It made him feel vulnerable, and Heero Yuy didn't like feeling vulnerable. Or confused. Another hard knock on his door, and irritated, he barked: "Enter!"

Two servants entered, wheeling a clothing rack inside the room. Heero remembered Wufei's words, and grumpily climbed out of bed. The next two hours were spent trying out the new clothes, with Heero sighing and fidgeting to keep his temper under control. Finally, the servants left him alone again and he looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn't surprising that the choice of clothing was old-fashioned; he was reminded of Duo's words of _old Euopean nobility _as he wrinkled his nose at the lace collar and the velvet grey of his jacket. What kind of man was Khushrenada, that he appreciated this kind of style? He tried in vain to comb his hair; the unruly locks refused to be contained and after a while, he simply gave up on it. As he waited for Wufei to arrive, he tried to go over his strategy once more. Odin Lowe was firmly in place; he could feel the cold rationality of his alter ego, rendering Heero Yuy to a faint conscience in the back of his mind. He had to keep it together. He didn't know what kind of danger was lurking around the corner, and he was right here in the lion's den.

Wufei arrived without knocking. He was dressed in a traditional white gi with light grey buttons. No embroidered dragon this time. His raven black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and his dark eyes swept the room and over Heero, nothing escaping their gaze.

"Come with me."

The dining room had been redecorated. A lot of the heavy, dark wooden furniture had been replaced by slender, slightly eccentric Louis XIV chairs, tables and cupboards, adorned with bronze candle holders and various other trinkets - even though Heero was convinced those 'trinkets' were genuine antiquities. He had to remind himself that there was big money going around in the Romefeller Foundation.

Treize Khushrenada was seated at the window, holding a small, first print edition of _Le Pétit Prince _in his gloved hands. The ginger haired man, dressed in an ancient military uniform - reminding Heero that Khushrenada was to be addressed as His Excellency - consisting of a Prussian blue tunic with a rose in the top button, stark white pants and high heeled boots shining so brightly Heero almost had to squint. Khushrenada was impeccable, and fitted perfectly with his environment. An environment that didn't fit Duo so well, sitting at the other end of the table, dressed in a casual red shirt with gray vest and black slacks. The silver circle at the tip of his zipper dangled with every movement. His hair was in its customary braid, and in the light of the chandelier it seemed to shine with a whole pallet of golden, brown and cinnamon colors.

"Welcome Mister Lowe, welcome." Khushrenada stood up from his chair and walked over to the table, set for three people. Every plate was silver, every glass was crystal. "I believe we've got to thank you for your rather unique merchandise?"

"If you are talking about the conductors, then yes," Heero answered dryly. Khushrenada showed a small smile.

"We would be pretty lost if it weren't for you. I'll be frank with you, Odin. We need those conductors in tiptop shape. They need to be sent to space as soon as possible."

"Space? What for?"

Khushrenada narrowed his eyes. "It's sufficient for you to know that roughly four dozen conductors were damaged in the transaction and we need them in good condition, fast. We're running a tight schedule here."

He was interrupted by a slew of servant girls who unloaded a cart full with dishes - all hidden under silver cloches - on the table. Khushrenada made a gesture with his hand, inviting Heero to take a seat. He wanted to sit next to Duo, but Wufei had already claimed that particular seat. Deciding not to push his luck, Heero sat down opposite of him, ignoring Khushrenada at the moment, who took the head of the table. The servant girls removed the silver cloches and after a 'Bon appétit' in unison, left the men to eat their dinner. The food was exquisite, as usual, the best that L4 had to offer; Heero recognized pheasant, quail, caviar… He had to hide a smile behind his hand when he noticed Duo poking at his food, eyes wide open. Wufei looked as if he wanted to smack him around and Khushrenada dutifully ignored his guest who had never seen fish eggs before.

"We appreciate that you are willing to take the repairs into your own hand," Khushrenada continued the conversation. Heero arched an eyebrow. He had never officially agreed to do that, hadn't he? "You'll be compensated for your troubles, of course. Furthermore, you will explain the installation of the conductors, their compatibility with the gundanium chips and their implementation for mobile suit operation to my choice of staff."

"What kind of suits?" Heero asked.

Khushrenada looked at him again. "Why do you want to know?"

"Installation of the conductors depends on the suit," Heero explained, almost sounding bored. "It's different from a land suit to a ground suit or even a deep sea ocean suit. I need to know what kind of suit you're building or deploying, so I can adjust the pointers of the conductors."

Khushrenada sampled a bit of the caviar, his every movement calm and composed, thoroughly enjoying the food. "What will you say when I tell you that you have to adjust them to fit into…" He paused for the dramatic effect… "Gundams?"

He got the desired effect. Heero almost spit out the wine he was sipping. "_Gundams_?"

Duo had a horrific, shocked look in his eyes, his fork clattering on his silver plate. Wufei continued with the seafood, as if the conversation completely went past him. He already knew.

"The Gundams were sent off in a rock to the sun, effectively destroying them," Heero recited, monotone. "Everything pertaining to the Gundams has been destroyed."

"Not everything, if you have been paying attention to my words."

Heero looked at the sophisticated man incredulously. _What the hell? _

"I think you underestimated us, Odin. You thought you just had to deal with a mere rebel faction, did you not? I see that I have to set your perceptions straight. We're part of a very solid Foundation and we want to rebuild and use the Gundams."

Heero put down his napkin. His voice was strained. "We've gone through two wars, both involving Gundams. I don't have to remind you of the consequences of those mobile suits. I've heard enough. I won't be a part of this, not any longer." With a brusque movement, he shoved his chair backwards and got up. _Screw the mission, screw Une and the whole secret service!_

"Sit down, Mister Lowe. Sit down!" Khushrenada's voice held such authority that even without yelling. Heero all but automatically obeyed. He sat down again, and for the first time in his life, in his career as a secret agent, he felt lost. He had faced a lot of troubles and complicated problems, but this was the biggest thing he had ever encountered. Mission be damned, but he wasn't going to cooperate in bringing back weapons of mass destruction!

"Maybe you'll rethink your position when you understand that these threats… these suits have to be brought back to face an even bigger threat." Khushrenada continued eating as if he was discussing winning lottery tickets. Duo had stopped eating all together and Wufei was cutting the grilled salmon in pieces of mere millimeters. Heero felt cold.

"A bigger threat?"

"I'm not going to divulge the details of our plans to you. You're not having part in any of this except for the conductors. Fix them, and that will be the end of your contribution. Finish your meal, Mister Lowe. It would be a waste of food."

Heero took up his cutlery, only to manage a few more bites before he allowed the servant girls to take away his plate. Khushrenada was the only one to finish his entire plate. He took up his napkin and betted his lips.

"Mister Maxwell here will provide you with any equipment you need. You have met him before, haven't you?"

"I had the pleasure," Heero said and saw a gentle smile curling around Duo's lips.

"Excellent." Khushrenada snapped with his fingers and the servant girls re-entered the dining room, this time with large trays of dessert - that got Duo's attention again, as he picked a large bowl of ice cream with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. A war orphan from L2 barely had the chance of eating fresh fruit. Wufei declined any of the pastries and sweets, and Heero chose a piece of apple pie for himself.

"I hope the medical care was satisfactory." Khushrenada decided on a small bowl with some kind of mousse and delicate, thin wafers. "You were very close to an explosion, and I was told that you should consider yourself very, very lucky."

Heero simply nodded. His eyes went over the table, to Duo, who was eating his strawberries with gusto, using his right hand - albeit with some awkwardness. Khushrenada followed his eyes.

"And you saved the life of a very valuable employee," he said, sounding smug. He bit off a piece of the wafer, the crunch very audible. For some reason, the sound send shivers down Heero's spine. _A very valuable employee? _"I'm sure I can convince the Foundation to make your compensation incredibly rewarding."

He was about to say that Khushrenada could put his compensation somewhere in a place the sun didn't shine, but Heero quickly decided against it. Wufei ignored everyone else at the table and when dinner was over, Khushrenada excused himself to take up his seat by the window again, to continue reading.

"You should be resting," Duo said and rose from the table. "Your bill of health isn't clean yet. I'll bring you back to your room." Heero agreed immediately. In all this mess, Duo was like a shining beacon of normality, even though his presence raised more questions than answering them.

* * *

"So, what do you think?"

Duo waited until they were close to Heero's quarters to start talking. His hand rested on the door handle.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think of our new leader?" Duo smiled, baring his perfect white teeth. _Would he kill me if I kissed him? _

"I think he's quite capable of leading the Foundation… or whatever it is."

"Romefeller," Duo said. "It's the Romefeller Foundation. They have a huge financial back-up."

_So Winner wasn't involved. _Heero couldn't get the image of the blond billionaire out of his mind. Quatre Winner had visited the mansion of one of the most intrepid rebel leaders, together with Trowa Barton; it couldn't have been a coincidence. Winner, Barton, Romefeller - what was the big picture here?

"You don't have to look so frightened," Duo laughed, "you don't have to worry about it. As soon as you've fixed those faulty conductors, you're out of here with a big fat check. Nothing to worry about!"

"I don't mind delivering conductors, but using them for Gundams! I thought people were smarter than trying to revive those weapons."

Duo looked sad. "It's just another mobile suit," he said, sounding wearily. "Every mobile suit is a weapon. It's the only thing I think our perfect Queen is right about: weapons should be prohibited. But as long as there are people around, the urge for war and destruction will exist. There's nothing you can do about it."

"Besides making a profit," Heero answered him.

"You know, I just can't figure you out," Duo shot back. "When I first met you I thought you were some kind of fancy pants with hot merchandise. Then you save my life and somehow you show more compassion and personality when you stood up to Treize about reviving the Gundams, and now you're talking about profits and money again. What is it with you, Odin? I usually figure people out pretty fast, but you?"

"I don't want to confuse you," Heero said. He eyed Duo and the other returned his gaze with his usual open look.

"Anyway," Duo said, after some minutes of uncomfortable silence, "please hurry fixing those conductors. I want to return to L2 as soon as possible."

"Back to your hometown?"

"I don't have a hometown," he said, eyes narrowing dangerously. "It got flattened in the first war."

"And still you're contributing to the start of a new war."

"You don't know shit Odin, stop judging me." Duo straightened himself. "I really don't get you, but I sure as hell don't want to get you anymore. You're a stuck up jerk with prejudices and biases all coming out of your ears."

"So why don't you tell me what's the real deal, Duo Maxwell?" Heero stated boldly. "Give me the rundown of your terrible past and the horrors you've seen?"

"Fine. You want to know what happened, Odin? The war happened! You know that L2 took the brunt of it. So don't give me that pitying shit! I don't know what's going on with you, but you have no right to judge me."

"You judge me yourself, Duo. You think I only care for the money!"

"You haven't given me any reason otherwise!"

"And you? You haven't answered my question! You received money for your thievery. You stole the building plans and the chips. What are you saying to that, Shinigami?"

Duo paled. "What did you call me?"

"Shinigami. Nichol mentioned it."

"That idiot fucking bastard!" Duo spat. "Never mind," he said angrily when he saw Heero looking at him, observing. "Nichol is a blabbermouth. It's something from the past."

Another minutes of silence.

"Look, it's getting late." Duo checked his watch. "I'll get you tomorrow for breakfast and show you the place where you can work on those conductors, okay?"

"Okay. But we haven't finished this conversation."

"Yes we have." Duo stated and turned around so fast that his braid sliced through the air, almost hitting Heero in the chest. Heero walked into his room, locked himself up and bashed his head into a pillow. It was less painful than slamming into the wall.

* * *

Antagonizing Duo was quite the right method to get on his bad side. Heero had been awake all night, replaying the conversation over and over in his mind, wondering why he had spoken the words that had obviously hurt and angered the other. He didn't know why, but in his anger Duo let more slip than in just a normal conversation. But the after-effects were less than pleasant; a silent Duo at the breakfast table was awkward and when he asked if Heero had finished, his voice was curt, the words clipped. Wufei was nowhere in sight.

Heero was angry with himself for ruining the perfect opportunity for getting to know Duo better. Instead of trying for a kiss, he had riled him up, effectively cutting his own chances short. There was this… dark thing, something dark about Duo, notwithstanding the whole Shinigami part. There had to be a reason for someone nicknaming himself the God of Death and he wanted to find out.

"Yes, I'm finished."

"Follow me." Duo smacked his napkin on the table and was out of the room so fast that Heero had to hurry to keep up with him. Following the other, Heero threw a casual look outside the large windows of the hallway. He had a perfect view on the driveway of the mansion, and a Bentley just pulled up to the steps. The driver, clad in a dark blue uniform with golden buttons, got out of the car and opened the door. It didn't come as a great surprise to see Quatre Winner, followed by Trowa Barton, stepping out of the Bentley. What was a multi-billionaire doing, hanging out with someone actively tied to the heavy artillery of the L3 colony?

"Beats me," Duo said. Heero hadn't realized he had thought out loud. "Trowa isn't that close with the Foundation, though. He acts on his own. He's personal friends with Quatre, but I don't know _how _personal."

"The Romefeller Foundation is wealthy enough to upkeep their own status. Why would they need Winner for?"

Duo shrugged. "Maybe they hope to win Quatre over to support their cause, or take care of some cash flow, who knows? Come, I'll show you the work shop."

Heero followed him, carefully contemplating Winner and Barton in his mind. Something was wrong, and he couldn't put his finger on it. It irritated him to no avail. He still had to contact headquarters, but how? He didn't even have his clothes or his weapon anymore and his laptop was at the Star Hotel. Une wouldn't worry too soon, but it had been a while since he sent the last message. Maybe they presumed him dead after the mess of the transaction.

"Hey, I thought I lost you there for a moment, buddy. This way." Duo's boisterous nature seemed to have returned, and Heero showed him a watery smile. It was hard to think positive thoughts when he was caught up in such a complicated mess. He'd need more time to contemplate his fate.

* * *

The workshop was nothing else but the room Heero had once caught Duo in, working on his own thieving tools. The large benches held every tool imaginable; Heero saw cutters, pliers, saws, screwdrivers, and that was just scratching the surface. Next to the bench to the right was a cardboard box with the faulty conductors.

"I'll come back for you at lunch, all right? I have to talk things over with Wufei." With a curt nod, Duo disappeared. Heero eyed the conductors in the cardboard box. Forty five pieces, in various states of damage. He stood for a moment, completely flabbergasted at what to do. Une had J manufacture the conductors as bait; none of them were working. The scientist had rigged them to malfunction as soon as electricity ran through them. The stupid things were to be discarded as soon as the transaction had been done and over with and the entire rebel cell apprehended; and instead he was in this mess, and his only leverage was that he 'knew how to work' with the blasted things! As soon as any member of the Romefeller Foundation found out that it was all hot air, his life was done for. He needed to contact HQ and fast. Time was something he needed, but didn't have the luxury to wait for.

He wasn't going to work on the conductors. He needed to find a way out of here, and spending time in the workshop was limiting his chances of survival. Heero took the small stairs to the ground floor and quickly mapped out a strategy to get into touch with HQ. He had to go back to the Star Hotel and get his laptop. Without it, he had no means whatsoever to send a message. If someone caught him walking down the hallway, he could always claim to get his stuff because well, he didn't have anything else but the clothes he was wearing. No one would fault him for wanting to get his laptop back.

A sophisticated, polite voice came from down the hallway. Winner, no doubt.

"Will His Excellency receive me now?"

"But of course, forgive me for letting you wait," another voice answered. Heero recognized the man as the main servant. The next moment Khushrenada barked: "Otto! Do you mean you had Mister Winner _wait?_"

"My apologies, Your Excellency," the man said, obviously taken aback. "I haven't seen Mister Winner here before and he asked about the General, and…"

"You're dismissed," Khushrenada said and Heero certainly didn't imagine the icy tone in his voice. "We'll talk about this later. Mister Winner, Mister Barton, please follow me."

Heero heard the rustling of clothes and coats. Some general pleasantries were exchanged and from his position he managed to catch a glimpse of Khushrenada leading the way, down the hallway, away from Heero. He heaved a sigh of relief. Certainly Khushrenada was the man to avoid right now. This was an opportunity he couldn't miss out on, and Heero followed the group of men at a respectable distance, enough to see in which room they went. He wished he had his wallet with him - he sure could use his credit card with recording facilities right now. Shuffling close to the door, he had to do it the old-fashioned way: eaves-dropping.

He tried to distinguish the muffled sounds of shoveling chairs, some coughing and shuffling papers.

"I only consented because of my father's cause," he heard Quatre Winner talk. When he thought Khushrenada's voice to be icy, it was nothing compared to the chill tone in Quatre's voice. The politeness was still there, but not just like a business man- this man was a incredulously tough negotiator. Heero shivered.

"We know, Mister Winner. We hope we haven't lost your trust in our cause."

"Frankly, you start losing it and rapidly," Quatre Winner answered calmly. "I only tied myself to the Romefeller Foundation because of your heritage and I was truly convinced you had good intentions. Now, how about those rumors about resurrection of the Gundams?"

"We bought the conductors to counterattack the mobile doll system in development," Khushrenada gave back. "We're not sure about resurrecting the Gundams, or developing new models to fulfill that mission."

Heero winced when he heard a loud smack. Someone had smashed something hard on a solid surface.

"I do not approve of resurrecting the Gundams! If I notice one look, one stare at the designs, your ass is fried, Khushrenada. I will not stand for another war! You made sure about the mobile doll system threat- but how much of a threat is it, when you are collecting every piece of equipment possible for your own army?"

"Mister Winner, please. I know this is difficult. We have confirmed intelligence on the development of the mobile doll system and trust me, it can -and will- represent a much greater danger than a few Gundams."

"Dermail has been taken out because he crossed the line, Khushrenada. You could be taken out as well, just as easily."

Heero gasped. Was this a confession from Quatre Winner that he was behind the Duke's murder? He was amazed. Talking about serious underestimation! This was a man who was even more powerful than Khushrenada himself; he took care of the funding and issued the orders. Khushrenada wasn't in charge, Quatre Winner was! This changed his entire opinion on the case. What kind of game was the billionaire playing? He didn't want the rebuilding of the Gundams, but why would he fund a Foundation who was bent on warfare? Who took the most profits from warfare, and thrived on the misery of innocent victims?

Chairs scraped over the floor and Heero quickly moved away from the door, high tailing it out of the hallway before he was noticed. He raced back to his workshop and had to grab a firm hold on one of the benches, just to keep standing upright. So many questions, his head jumbled.


	6. Chapter 6

"Good morning, O~ooodin!"

Heero shivered when the quilt was pulled of him with great force, allowing a gust of chilly air to wash all over him. Duo's voice ran out through the room. "Rise and shine, buddy. Time to get back to your conductors!"

"Shut up about those things," Heero groaned and tried to cover his head with a pillow. He didn't need Duo to remind him of his precarious situation.

"Oh, don't exaggerate. Who wouldn't love to tinker with intricate electronics in the early morning?" Duo snickered at his own joke. "Come on, let's have some breakfast first and then I'll introduce you to a guest."

"A guest?" Heero's curiosity was piqued. It was good to see Duo back into good spirits too; it automatically made him feel much, much better. He watched Duo scurrying around the room, going through Heero's wardrobe.

"I see they still think lace and huge collars are the trends of today's fashion," he tsk-ed. "I think a pair of tight jeans would look much better on you! Well, aren't you getting out of bed? You can't show up at breakfast in just those shorts, you know."

"All right, all right." Heero rolled out of bed, thanking the stars that he had kept his boxers on. Duo catching him in the nude would be… more than awkward. The man of his dreams walked around in front of him, talking and gesturing, and paradise and hell have never been so close at the same time. He quickly got dressed and followed Duo to the dining room. When he entered the room, he saw Quatre Winner, Chang Wufei and Trowa Barton sitting at the table, set with copious dishes and shiny, polished dinnerware. Heero feigned ignorance.

"Good morning, all."

"Good morning, Lowe." Wufei rose up from his seat. "Allow me to introduce you to Quatre Raberba Winner and Trowa Barton."

Quatre gave Heero a surprisingly strong hand, a kind smile on his face. "It's nice meeting you, Mister Lowe."

Trowa merely acknowledged him with a curt nod of his head and seemed more interested in his cup of tea than in Heero.

"What's the honor of your visit, Mister Winner?"

"Mister Winner is an… investor for the cause," Khushrenada said and scrutinized Heero. He hadn't heard the man arrive, dressed in the same uniform as yesterday, complete with a swiveling cape. Heero couldn't help but to play a little bit naïve, trying to collect some more information.

"Excuse me, but you're the same Winner as the man behind Winner Resources? The mining satellites?"

For a short moment, something dark crossed Quatre's face, but it disappeared within a second, leaving Heero to wonder if he'd really seen it.

"My father was head of Winner Inc.," he said, carefully placing his porcelain teacup back on the plate. "I took over after his untimely death."

"Rebel forces?" Heero knew he was blunt, but he was curious as to learn Quatre's motives. He was financing a Foundation trying to resurrect the Gundams, the same Gundams who took care of his father death.

"It was a rebel revolt, yes, but with much more political and financial involvement than you could imagine." _Translation: shut the fuck up._ Quatre was too polite to return Heero's bluntness; however, the tone in his voice was more than obvious. Trowa blinked at Heero, his posture rigid.

"So, who killed _your_ father then?" Trowa spoke, his speech pattern slow, as if he weighed every word on a golden platter before pronouncing them.

"Why do you assume my father was killed?" Heero asked him, looking grim.

"Duo told us you're a war orphan."

Heero glared at Duo, who was munching away at his breakfast, not even looking at Heero. He was so engrossed with his stack of pancakes and adding more maple syrup to it that he completely ignored the conversation. Heero reminded himself that Duo was on a first-name-basis with all of the people he encountered - so it wasn't farfetched that he had been talking to Trowa Barton. That made Duo Maxwell however, friends with a leader of a warfare Foundation, a man involved with rebel forces, a billionaire with probable father issues and a man involved in artillery and weapon business. It seemed that Duo had a habit of choosing dangerous friends.

"I'm afraid I can't help you," Heero answered dryly. "My adoptive father never talked about my real father. I guess he didn't know him well enough to tell me something about him."

"At least you had a parent," Trowa mumbled. "Duo had to find his refuge in a church."

The mention of the word 'church' immediately snapped Duo out of his pancakes trance. The look on his face clearly told Trowa to stop talking, but the other simply shrugged and continued pouring himself some pomegranate juice. Heero didn't know what was going on, but he filed 'church' mentally away for future use. He could imagine a little as to what Trowa was talking about; Duo was from L2, the volatile colony so caught up in war that casualties and damages ran extremely high, wrecking the entire economy and government. The rebel forces were the strongest at L2; the church Duo took refuge in had probably been attacked, if not destroyed. Heero shuddered involuntarily.

"Both wars were terrible, leaving many homeless and without their families." Quatre interrupted Heero's train of thoughts.

"And we should try to prevent a third one, but that's a bit difficult seeing how we're into the gundanium chips and conductors business," Heero said before he could stop himself. An awkward silence fell. He wished he could've bitten his tongue. He might as well have announced that he was a secret agent.

"Well well well, do we have a dealer with a conscience?" Quatre didn't mock him, but instead looked at him differently, his blue eyes determined and strong, yet… appraising him? It was too late to withdraw his words now. Heero's mind worked quickly, trying to steer the conversation to neutral grounds, but his tongue refused to cooperate.

"It seems to me that everyone at this table has experienced one or more tragedies in the previous wars. I was just wondering; why buy materials and equipment to walk into those footsteps of war?"

Quatre laced his fingers together, resting with his elbows on the table. Khushrenada had been silent all the time, but everyone was exchanging looks with each other.

"Interesting," he finally said. Then, suddenly, his face lit up as if he had heard the most excellent news in the world. "Let's not tar the early morning with such depressing talk about wars and Gundams! Sit down, Odin Lowe, and enjoy some breakfast. I have to say, I've never tasted fluffier pancakes."

Heero knew a dismissal when he heard one, but this time he was more than glad. He quickly sat down, catching Duo's brooding look and Khushrenada's gauging one, and even though the pancakes tasted like rubber to him, he'd never been more grateful for a distraction than this one.

* * *

He was walking a fine line, and he wasn't out of the woods yet. Heero start at the damaged conductors in front of him. He was technical-savvy enough to make them look like they were repaired, but that didn't change the fact that they simply wouldn't work. He was running out of time fast, and as soon as Romefeller had no more use for him, Odin Lowe was dead. He certainly was, when they found out the conductors were never meant to work in the first place.

Headquarters. He had to find a way to reach them. Une had to be notified of Septem's death, and that Treize Khushrenada was calling the shots here. Actually, Quatre Winner was, but Heero knew Relena kept him in high regard, and he didn't want to unsettle the Queen of the World with this news. However, Une had to be told, somehow… but HQ was on Earth, and he was on L4. If only he had his laptop, but all his belongings were at the Star Hotel. Ever since the transaction went wrong, everything had gone wrong, with too many questions still left to be answered.

"Daydreaming, aren't we, Lowe?"

"Your Excellency." Heero recognized the man's voice before turning around, but couldn't hide his surprise; the man in charge of the Foundation was paying him a visit?

"I apologize for the pressure we put on you," Khushrenada said. "But time is really running out. We need those conductors, as we can't…manufacture them on our own."

"Duo Maxwell seems handy enough," Heero remarked. Khushrenada smiled.

"I see that he hasn't escaped your attention," he said. The ginger haired man swiped with his glove clad hands over the conductors. "Duo has qualifications on a very special level, for which we appreciate him very much. He's a brave man. Nice too, though a bit brash. But all in all, a very valuable force."

"You had him steal the Gundam designs."

Khushrenada laughed, albeit short and loud. "You're very observant, Lowe. I'm sure you've been told that you have to keep the conclusions you draw to yourself."

"Is that a threat or helpful advice?"

"Helpful advice." Khushrenada was taller than Heero, but no menace went out of him… yet. Heero didn't need to wish for his gun; he'd been trained in extensive fighting sports, ranging from martial arts to boxing. He could take the man on, if need be. He followed Khushrenada's movements, who had just picked up one of the conductors. He studied the piece of electronics for a while, but fortunately for Heero he didn't ask about any technical details. "How's work coming along?"

"It's coming along nicely," Heero answered. "Thank you for all the tools and the work space."

"No problem," Khushrenada said. "If you need anything more, just let me know."

It was the opening Heero had been waiting for. It was a long shot, a plan hastily put together, but it was worth a try. He had to get back to Earth, to Headquarters, even if he had to risk his cover.

"Now that you mention it, Your Excellency," he added hastily, "I'm in need of a few spare parts."

Khushrenada nodded. "I'll send someone to take your request. I'm sure we can provide you with whatever parts you need."

"They're not available on L4 or any other of the colonies," Heero said, carefully monitoring Khushrenada's reaction. "I have my own suppliers on Earth, and I trust them to deliver reliable parts."

"Are you sure these parts are only available on Earth? As you know, we have excellent connections with L3."

"With all due respect, Your Excellency," Heero made sure to keep the disdain out of his voice this time, there was no need to ruffle Khushrenada's feathers, "L3 is literally too heavy to provide me with such specific, frail components of the conductors."

"I see." Khushrenada was silent for a while, still studying the conductor in his hand. Finally, he put the fragile piece back on the workbench and stared at Heero. "How long is it going to take?"

"Only the hours to travel to Earth and back again, and to talk to some people," Heero said. "No longer than two days. I'll do the best I can to keep the delay as short as possible."

"And there's no way you can fix these things without those spare parts, or another alternative?"

"I'm sorry, but no." Heero kept his face as neutral as possible. He was the best agent in the Secret Service. He had faced tougher situations than this. He only needed to convince Khushrenada, needed to bullshit his way out of here, to get back to Earth and reach HQ…

"I think I can spare two days," Khushrenada said. There was no friendliness on his face or in his voice. "But that's the last I can do. Don't disappoint us and don't stall any longer, Lowe."

"Thank you, Your Excellency." Heero remained stoic under the other's words. He had heard many threats in his life, and he knew by now who was going to follow up on it or not. Khushrenada couldn't call the shots without Quatre Winner, and since the billionaire had expressed his veto… as it was, he'd just been given the leeway he needed, and Heero released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He watched Khushrenada leave and reminded himself to be careful, very careful.

* * *

With a little time to spare before lunch, a servant visited Heero in his workshop. He told him that Quatre Winner was leaving for Earth in another hour and Mister Lowe was invited along. Heero was taken aback by the sudden opportunity; he had expected to pay a visit to Star Hotel first, get his belongings and book a seat on a commercial flight. Apparently, Khushrenada had spoken to Quatre - and now things had been set into motion, completely out of his control. He didn't like it, but he had no choice in the matter - the servant informed him that his bags had been packed, and that Quatre Winner was expecting him at lunch in his private shuttle.

Traveling with a private shuttle relieved him from waiting for hours in line and being propped up on a commercial flight. Quatre Winner proved to be pleasant company, not mentioning Heero's words at breakfast and talking about business, space travel and this and that in general. It wasn't hard to keep up conversation, even though Heero sometimes cast a longing glance at Trowa Barton - not at the person, but at the laptop he was using. All in all, it was late at night when Heero finally set foot on Earth, kindly thanking Quatre and declining his invitation to spend the night at his mansion - he hadn't been at his own apartment for way too long, and he could easily conduct his business from there.

His body was protesting, but Heero forced himself to go on. Space travel took a lot of energy, and he was barely adjusted to Earth's atmosphere, let alone the change in time zone. He could rest on the flight back. For now, he had urgent matters to attend to. It wasn't hard to find a taxi to take him to his apartment building; much to his relief, he wasn't followed. He didn't let his guard down - only a fool would do so - but experience told him that no, no one was on his tail. It made his work for tonight just a little easier.

His back-up laptop was booting, and Heero drank some instant coffee. It tasted terrible after all the delicious coffees he'd had on L4, but he only needed the caffeine to keep him going. With his mug firmly in his hand, Heero took the seat at his desk and stared at his laptop screen.

He checked all his secured email addresses and was appalled that no new messages had been delivered. Strange. Nobody had tried to contact him after the failed transaction. Not even his secretary, Sylvia Noventa, had sent him anything. He checked every virtual place that he could think of for messages; none were waiting for him. Not encoded, not encrypted, nothing. Not a peep. He tried to call Headquarters, using his special telephone so the call could never be traced back to him, but every number he dialed, was out of business. Now the hairs on the back of his neck started tingling. Headquarters could be reached 24/7, Une had set up the special support teams herself. Every agent, wherever in the world or in the colonies, would be able to reach HQ whenever. There would never, never be a "Sorry, you have reached the wrong number" message.

Annoyed and angry, Heero disconnect when he had tried the last of a list of phone numbers. He had run out of options, and he desperately wanted to talk to someone at HQ, preferably Une. An e-mail would have to do and he started typing. When he was finished, he send Relena a copy as well. Fatigue was catching up to him, and Heero decided to take a shower and a nap. There was still time; he could drop by in person even though it was extremely risky. He didn't like extreme risks. For now, he needed to clear his mind and take some rest before he crashed and burned. Heero hopped in the shower, enjoying the moment of warm water running over and soothing his tensed body.

When he got back into the living room, Heero couldn't keep from checking his laptop one last time. His eyes went wide when he took a look at his mail program. His mails had _bounced_. His jaw went slack. _No such recipient._ "Impossible!" He wanted to punch the laptop screen. _Keep calm, keep calm. _Gulping some more coffee, he checked and double checked everything while precious time went by, to no avail. Something had happened at HQ. Something that blocked him, that kept him out. Heero gritted his teeth. Whatever was going on, whoever was responsible for this - did they really think they could keep _him_ out? Secret agent 001?

The night wasn't over yet. Frantic, Heero gathered his stuff: a suitcase with gadgets and clothes, his laptop in a protective case, extra cash (different currencies and credits), several passports and identification cards, and he slipped a few lock picks between his clean socks as well. It wasn't too late to pay a visit to HQ in person. If the building was still there… it wouldn't surprise him if the entire Secret Service had just gone up in smoke. And if they had… why? What was going on? He hated not knowing, he hated not being in control. It was bad enough that a Duo Maxwell was messing with his head on the emotional front, he really couldn't use more trouble on the job front. Snorting, he grabbed his car keys. Nobody had breached his security, that was for sure. His Bentley was still in the garage, where it belonged - time to get out and get things settled.

* * *

He was almost disappointed when the building doomed up in front of him. Heero parked the Bentley out of sight and checked the positions of the security cameras. They were still in the exact position as he remembered them to be, so that hadn't changed. Avoiding the cameras, Heero made his way over to the building. He had half-and-half expected it to be blown up, or something like that, and the eerie darkness of the building was both intimidating and familiar. He was glad it was still there. Now he could get some answers, and he knew enough back doors to get inside. He hadn't packed his things at home for nothing. Every entrance was electronically locked, and he wasn't shocked when his regular employee card didn't register. Access denied. Heero frowned nonetheless. A certain thought was coming up in his mind, bubbling along his thoughts, and he squashed it immediately. Une wasn't a woman to assume the worst immediately, she was calm and level-headed. She wouldn't believe he was… the lock finally showed a green light. Heero put his tools back into his pocket and quickly entered the building. Security was tight. He had less than fifteen minutes before his presence would be detected.

Heero didn't bother using the elevators. He was in good shape and ran up the stairs, to his own office; the best place to start. He was flabbergasted when he swung open the door. His sparse furniture was gone, and replaced by a luscious sofa and two large seats. The tasteful prints he had hung on the wall, were exchanged for large paintings depicting a glorious battlefield.

"Zechs Merquise!" He blurted out. He recognized those paintings from his colleague's, 006, office anywhere. Zechs Merquise had swiped his office? Something terrible had to have happened for Une to put up with this kind of shit! Zechs had real fancy tricks on his sleeve. Knowing agent 006, with the same license to kill as Heero and five years longer of service under his belt, he certainly was capable of pulling this kind of stunt.

Heero roamed through the office, avoiding leaving fingerprints. He flipped through the stacks of papers on the desk. It seemed that Zechs hadn't gone on any missions lately. What was he trying to accomplish with a desk job? Heero ached to boot up the computer and look through his files, but he was already down to ten minutes. Hacking Zechs' files was going to take much longer than that; Heero had no illusions that the other would be slack with protecting his data. Heero moved towards the other desk, assuming it was still his secretary's, Sylvia Noventa. He should've known better: it was Lucrezia's.

As sad as it was, he didn't have the time to contemplate Sylvia's fate. She was probably transferred - or demoted - to another department, if Zechs Merquise really was King here. What had the man done? What had he done? The top drawer of the desk was open, and Heero went through a stack of papers again, mentally keeping count of how much time he had left. He stumbled upon a few recent memos, and he all but tore them out of the drawer. The majority of the memos were signed by Une, and that released a huge ball of tension in Heero's body. In a worst case scenario, she had died and left everything to… but as soon as his eyes reached the next memo, he knew she hadn't been the one to die.

He had.

With wide eyes, he was reading his own obituary. The memo was directed at Lucrezia, to have the obituary published, along with a slew of impersonal mourning advertisements and an eulogy. _Commander Heero Yuy, serving his country since his very youth, decorated veteran, distinguished member of society… _but the only thing racing through his mind was "What?. What the hell was going on? He had briefly, very briefly, considered the option that the Secret Service might think him dead. After the transaction going awry, he hadn't been able to reach HQ himself, but for HQ to simply assume, so quickly, that he was dead…

It had to be a part of the plan, hadn't it? It had to be a plan. Une was a smart woman, she wouldn't take it for granted that Heero was 'just' dead. What in the world had happened that she believed such a thing, that Zechs of all people had usurped his office and somehow got all his, Heero's, access blocked? He was literally cut off, and he didn't even have a HQ to come back to! Worse, he couldn't contact J. to help him out with the conductors… it felt like a veritable spider web he was caught in, and with every move he made, the threads tightened around him. What was he supposed to do? He stiffened. Maybe Treize Khushrenada and the Romefeller Foundation weren't the real enemy, but Merquise was. That particular thought made him sick to his stomach.

Heero made it out of HQ and all but ran back to his Bentley, slamming the door behind him and grabbing the steering wheel. He didn't start the car yet. His breathing was quick and uneven, and his heart was racing a mile a minute. Willing himself to calm down, his quick, agile and trained mind started to sum up possible solutions, making a mental overview of the mess he was in. He'd always come out on top before. Operation Zero System wasn't going to be his last. He could find a way out of this, he was sure. Now that he knew he couldn't count on HeadQuarters anymore, he decided to focus on the problems at hand. First, he needed some sleep, no matter how much it sounded like a luxury. Without decent sleep, he couldn't function properly and he would make hasty, sloppy decisions. His hand already moved towards the keys in the ignition, and turned them around. He was going back to the apartment to catch himself a few hours of rest before the sun would rise.

Then, he had to make a plan. A very good plan, if he wanted to survive.


	7. Chapter 7

The loud ringtone of his cellphone woke him up hours later. Blearily, Heero blinked and felt something poking in his cheek, a strange feeling that he couldn't identify - until he lifted his head, and he almost took his laptop with him. He'd fallen asleep on top of the keyboard; growling in annoyance, Heero grabbed his phone and barked "Yes! Who is it?"

"Good morning to you too, Lowe," Heero heard a calm, composed voice on the other side. He had no difficulties identifying him.

"Barton," he said. Why would Quatre's… whatever he was, call him? A little friendlier, Heero asked: "What can I do for you?"

"We were wondering if you already had finished your business here on Earth," Trowa said. "Quatre has a tight schedule, and we can offer you a ride back to the colonies."

"How much time do I have?"

"We want to leave at 1 p.m. sharp."

Heero quickly glanced at his watch. That would leave him a few hours; he could try to reach HQ again, or J. in particular. He had to try - he just couldn't leave like that. He noticed his hand was shaking. Reading his own obituary had caused him more shock and tension than he realized.

"Lowe? You're still there?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Heero hurried to answer. "I was just wondering if I could make it in time, but I don't think it's going to be a problem. So yes, thank you, I'll travel with you."

"Excellent. See you at the spaceport, then."

Heero said his goodbye before disconnecting the call. He sank onto his bed and buried his head into his hands. What more could he do? HQ was out of his reach, literally. Returning to the colonies seemed like a death sentence to him. What if he simply… disappeared? He had enough resources and skills to run and hide. He could retreat to Switzerland, start his life over, forget all about Heero Yuy and Odin Lowe…. he bit his lip. He already knew the answer. Gundams. War. He couldn't let it go, just because he was afraid. There had to be a solution, there had to be a way to stall long enough to get to the bottom of Operation Zero System.

He couldn't remember the last time he had stocked up in the kitchen, but most of the cabinets proved to be empty. He found a carton of eggs in the fridge, fortunately still fresh, and he made himself some scrambled eggs, along with a few slices of toast. After breakfast, he got dressed and attempted to comb his unruly hair; he was glad that the imprints of the keyboard weren't visible on his face anymore. Refreshed, fed and dressed, Heero got to work, trying to reach HQ once more. It was to no avail; calling every number in his book left him with dead lines, no answer, and every e-mail address got bounced. After hours of vain attempts, Heero didn't know what to do anymore. He had to consider HQ as enemy territory for now; without a way to contact them, and being declared dead, he knew one thing for sure: he couldn't count on any help from them.

It was time to leave for the spaceport. He packed his suitcase and laptop case and without looking back, left his apartment.

* * *

To his utmost pleasure - and surprise - Duo accompanied them on the trip back. Heero didn't bother to hide his enthusiasm to see Duo, and was greeted with a warm smile in return.

"I didn't know you were on Earth," he said to Duo when they boarded Quatre Winner's private space shuttle.

"I'm just hopping all over the galaxy," Duo grinned. "Maybe I should get a frequent flyer card or something like that."

"You're so funny. Where are the other two?"

"Oh, they'll be boarding soon. Last minute things, you know how it goes." He flopped down in a comfortable seat, stretching his legs. "One thing I got to hand to Quatre, he's got the best of the best. And having your own private space jet is one big advantage."

"I know, I hate low star economy class."

"So, what did you bring?"

"My laptop, some merchandise, clean clothes," Heero said airily. Duo had only brought a duffle bag on board.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Duo said. "You still have some stuff at the hotel, right? I can ask Nichol to retrieve it. Did you bring anything valuable?"

"It would be nice if he could take a look," Heero said at the same airily tone. He had the faint suspicion that Nichol had already paid a visit to the hotel to swipe everything that belonged to Heero. Well, he wished him good luck on getting the laptop case open. It would literally blow up in his face after a certain amount of botched attempts.

Duo nodded as if filing it mentally away and put his arms behind his head, reclining comfortably. Quatre and Trowa still weren't on board, so Heero took his chance.

"What about Winner and Barton?" He asked. "Are they always together?"

Duo's cheeky grin was an absolute adorable sight. "Why Odin, I don't know what you mean!"

"Aw, come on!"

"Well, if you twist the knife like that…" Duo dropped his voice. "I'm not exactly sure how they met, but they trust each other unconditionally. You can bet their bond is taken beyond the bedroom door, if you catch my drift."

"I certainly catch it," Heero deadpanned and Duo laughed.

"I didn't know you had this deliciously perverted streak! Why Odin, you keep surprising me."

_I'd say anything to make you laugh, _Heero thought to himself. He really started to hate his undercover name. He wanted Duo to speak his real name, to softly whisper it in his ear, to call him whenever he needed him…

"They're late." Duo checked his watch. "His schedule is so tight."

"He's a well-renowned business man," Heero said as he sat down next to Duo. Despite the leg room, their knees still touched. Duo didn't pull away. "He's running a big risk funding the Foundation. I thought he believed in Total Pacifism side?"

"I think everybody has abandoned the Total Pacifism side." Duo didn't look at Heero, but out the window, his smile wistful. "Even the Queen of the World knows by now that not everyone is waiting for peace, that not everyone _wants _peace. Fighting will always happen, and weapons will always be made. Action and reaction, and there's no way to counter it."

"Counter it… unless you start a war a war against Earth."

"Sometimes people are their own judge, jury and executioner, Odin. I don't know what Quatre's plans are, and I don't care to know. I'm just an orphan from L2 who steals things for money. I don't even know why Quatre wanted me to come along. All I want to do is return to L2."

Duo had mentioned it before, but it still felt like a sucker punch to Heero. He wanted to get to know Duo better so badly, and if he went back to that wretched colony, he was going to lose him forever.

"So what are you going to do when this is over?"

He almost missed Duo's question. Composed, he shrugged, slipping back into his Odin Lowe personality. "I go wherever the profits are to be made."

"True. You're a trader." It didn't sound sarcastic or bitter, but not too friendly either. "I guess Quatre was impressed by you. You should keep that fire warm, Odin buddy. He could provide you with a lot of work."

"Where do you know Quatre from anyway?"

"I tried to rob him." Duo laughed at the memory. "He was visiting L2 and I figured his gold Rolex would bring enough food for me and the little ones on the table for a month."

"Little ones?"

"You ask too much questions, Lowe." Duo's sudden curt reply was unexpected, and he moved a little to the side, away from Heero, tucking his hands under his head as if he was going to sleep. Conversation was over and not a second later, both Quatre and Trowa boarded the shuttle.

"My apologies for running late," Quatre said as he was buckling down. "I've asked to launch as soon as possible, as to make up for the lost time. Oh, and by the way, Odin, I hope you don't mind we pay a visit to L3 first. Business, you know."

"L3? But Khushrenada…"

"Treize knows about our schedules," Quatre interrupted him, a little flustered from all the hurrying he had to do. "I know fixing the conductors has the utmost priority, but it just so happens that I have to pay a visit to L3, and I want you to come along. We'll be back on L4 soon enough."

Heero wasn't about to protest; a visit to L3 bought him more time and he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It stung him a little though that Quatre didn't elaborate on why he had wanted him to come along, just like Duo. He didn't bother to ask - Quatre's attention was focused on Trowa, and they continued to discuss business he couldn't overhear.

* * *

L3's security was tight. It didn't faze Heero in the least that their party was admitted without any kind of trouble. Money bought everything, especially on L3. Everything was for sale at this particular colony: fake papers, weapons, lives. There was no distinction between life, rank or skill; at L3 it was every man and woman for himself. Trowa's surname had a hint to it that he was tied to the Barton Foundation, which had its roots on L3. It implied that he might have been a mercenary, or still was - enough for Heero to suspect that he might be behind the assassination of Duke Dermail, but he had no solid proof.

The conflicting motives had Heero baffled. Quatre had said that Dermail had overstepped lines, but Khushrenada had called Quatre 'an investor for the cause'. Quatre Winner was financing the circuits and conductors, so he had to be actively contributing to an impending war. Why? For revenge? Would he sacrifice Earth and destroy billions of lives after what happened to his father Heero shook his head. He just couldn't figure it out.

"Something bothering you, buddy?" Duo sounded quite exuberant next to him, waiting for his duffle bag to arrive on the conveyor belt. The spaceport wasn't crowded or noisy.

"I've never been to L3 before," he quickly lied, "I'm just amazed. I heard all kinds of stories…"

Duo shrugged. "The government has officially banned the weapon trade, but they conveniently close an eye as long as they get a percentage of the profits. Everybody knows this, and everybody continues with the contraband and the 'trade'. The bribes keep the gears of the government lubricated, and the obsession with weapons continues to be fed. Your birthday present isn't a stuffed animal, but a weapon, and you better make sure it's the latest model."

"Nice. Cozy. No wonder everybody fears war with L3."

Duo shrugged again. "Even though they possess the greatest armaments and military force, that doesn't mean L3 is a fearful opponent." He left Heero to puzzle about his words while he went to a sandwich stand and ordered some food and drink.

When he returned, he gave Heero a turkey and rice sandwich and a bottle of mineral water. "Here you are."

"Thank you. Where are we going from here?"

"I'll get my information soon, and then I'll let you know." Duo enjoyed his sandwich with lettuce and roast beef, along with a soda drink. He wasn't perturbed to spend some time with Heero; as soon as they had left the space shuttle, they had split from Quatre and Trowa. Heero didn't spend time wondering where the others went, he didn't mind enjoying some time close to Duo at all.

Munching on their lunch, they waited for their luggage. Heero plucked Duo's duffle bag, along with his own luggage, from the conveyor belt and hauled it to the spaceport's exit. Duo called for a cab and gave the driver the address to an average, common hotel. Heero didn't care as long as it was clean; his room next to Duo's was small, with only a bed, a desk and a cupboard. He discovered an even smaller bathroom in the corner, assuming the door was another cupboard. Heero opened his suitcase and checked the hidden compartment for his gun. The Walther PPK .380 Auto was still in place, not being detected by the L3 customs; perhaps they hadn't even bothered to search the luggage belonging to Quatre Winner and his company.

His sharp ears picked up on the clicking noise of the door of his neighbor room opening and closing again. Tucking his weapon into his belt, Heero left his own hotel room soon after, trailing Duo. He was dressed in customary black with his long braid tucked under a black cap.

Duo blended into the masses with ease and Heero had a hard time following him. One moment, he even thought he had lost him - but he managed to track Duo down, to a restaurant with an "original Chinese garden."

Heero cursed himself mentally for not bringing his sunglasses with magnifying capabilities, and he regretted not having planted a transmitter on Duo. Now he was going to miss out on a very important conversation, as he had the feeling Duo wasn't visiting the establishment for some Chinese take-out. His only chance was the very same Chinese garden. He had no idea what a typical original Chinese garden entailed, but on L3 they thought it had to do something with waterfalls and large rose bushes; he would deal with all the thorns in his clothing and skin later. He crawled closer to a small pavilion, homing in on Duo's gregarious laughter.

He caught himself one good look before he had to get down, lest he be spotted. Chang Wufei and Duo were sitting in a pavilion, accompanied by that Po woman and… Hilde. Heero frowned. Hilde was supposed to be on L2, wasn't she? What was she doing here? And Wufei? The Foundation kept shuffling people around like chess pieces on a board. Romefeller turned out to be better organized than he anticipated, and it struck him that he still didn't know the exact positions of Wufei and Duo. They were probably low in ranks, considering the magnitude of this organization. Quatre seemed to be the big fish with his funding and connections, and Trowa the one with the hit and kill attitude. Heero kept quiet and concentrated.

"… factory…" Chang's voice, calm and composed as always.

"… can't believe… risk…!" Hilde's voice, high pitched.

"… trusts him… don't question…" Chang again. Sally Po and Duo didn't seem to participate in the conversation at the moment. A factory… a factory for rebuilding the Gundams?

Despite his efforts, he couldn't catch more. A waitress arrived, judging from the sounds, and served everyone tea. Hilde exclaimed her love for ylang ylang, and the factory wasn't mentioned again. His hiding place was precarious; if one of them was leaving the pavilion, he could be spotted. Heero decided to blow it off and made his way back, out of the garden. Plucking at all the tiny thorns and scratching at his arms, he mingled with the public. Nobody paid any attention to him; everybody was minding their own business. L3 was an enigma on its own; the colonists didn't care about war in general, but on the other hand, they lived on the anticipation of another war. L3 was the only colony in the whole solar system to thrive and feel alive when the population was at war. The whole society reflected that strange, deep-rooted life of fighting and violence; gang wars were more rule than exception.

It was no wonder L3 had the highest illegal arms trafficking, the lowest survival rate and the highest death rate. The colonists were numb to the horrible implications of their society; Heero remembered how Relena cried when she was told about this. She was shaken to tears at the thought that infants were carrying guns and the choice of gang determined the amount of years you were going to live. Heero had felt sorry for Relena; to him, this was just an aspect of his work. But now that he was on L3 himself, without any contact, without any back-up, in the middle of a dangerous operation with the sword of Damocles hanging over his head, he also felt sorry for himself.

He made it safely back to the hotel and order a sober meal. He waited for Duo to come back, but when the hour reached midnight, he gave up and went to bed. The thought that Duo was spending all his time with Hilde made him incredibly jealous, and he hated himself for it.

* * *

"Sleep well?"

Duo's smile was geared towards the huge stack of pancakes at the breakfast buffet. Heero shrugged.

"I should've brought earplugs to shut out the police sirens."

Duo laughed. "I forgot, you never visited L3 before, right? Well, I'll let you in on a secret. Do you know why so many people want to work for the police? You'd think no one want to enforce the law on a colony like L3, don't you?"

"I don't know, why?" Heero was genuinely curious.

Duo came close to him, hands half covering his mouth as not to be overheard. "Every time a crime gets reported, the police make money of it. They go to the place of the reported crime, cash in from the party who offers the most and then arrest the other party who couldn't bribe their way out."

"That's terrible!" Heero was shocked. Relena would be even more appalled if she knew about this. "That's not fair!"

Duo laughed out loud. "Odin, L3 scrapped 'fair' out of their vocabulary years and years ago. Now, eat up your French toast, we have to be at Quatre's in another hour or so."

Besides the pancakes, French toast and coffee, the hotel didn't offer more breakfast services, so they finished up and went on their way to meet Quatre. Duo didn't call for a cab, and Heero leisurely walked along Duo.

"How can you accept all of this and still be optimistic?"

"What do you want me to do, wallow in misery and pity? Are you sure you're a colony boy, Odin? Growing up on L2 taught me quite a few things."

"I mostly grew up on Earth, that's right," Heero admitted, "but my adoptive father never failed to remind me that I was born on L1."

"L1 isn't too bad," Duo mused. "They comply with the ESUN, very carefully and very tactfully. They're afraid their funding and economy privileges are going to be cut off if they step just a little bit out of line. There are worse places to be born."

"True." Heero tried to gauge Duo's reaction, but he had a stoic, calm mask firmly in place. He had seen Duo angry, joyous, enthusiastic, bitter, sarcastic… there were so many sides to him that he couldn't figure out who Duo really was.

"We're here."

Heero looked around. They were standing at a corner of a particular busy intersection and he scratched at the back of his head. What were they supposed to do, cross the street? Just as he was about to ask, a limousine arrived. He whistled.

"One advantages of being associated with Quatre," Duo said as he watched the luxurious car rolling to a halt, right in front of him. A burly, tan man with dark sideburns stepped out and scrutinized Duo and Heero.

"Mister Maxwell, Mister Lowe, please get in the car." His voice rumbled like an avalanche.

"Nice to see you too, Rashid," Duo answered sickly sweet, before he got in. Heero seated himself next to him. The limousine's engine was nearly silent; Heero marveled at the speed of the city passing by, until they were out of the populated zone and into the open, vast landscape of the colony. After forty minutes, the limousine pulled up at a mansion and servants hurried to open the door. Their movements were quick yet graceful, and they bowed to the visitors. One servant gestured at the stairs, leading up to the huge doors; Heero noticed from Duo's ease and confidence that he'd been here before.

As soon as they entered the mansion, a servant searched them for weapons. Heero was stripped of his Walther PPK. To his surprise, Duo didn't carry a fire weapon; the servant took a garrote and some nasty looking knives from him, with the comment that he had expected Duo to carry more. Duo just laughed in return and told the man, who he called Auda, to take care of the knives, because he would count them when he got them back.

"Master Winner is this way," Auda said, bowed and led them to a large room. Heero was relieved to see Quatre had quite a different taste than the pompous Victorian style of the Romefeller Foundation. His taste was definitely more exotic, Middle-Eastern to African; the colorful carpets, the wooden statues and masks, the sparse furniture in the room was definitely of high quality, all collected in good taste. Quatre rose from his chair, sitting behind an impressive cherry wood desk and welcomed them as if they were long lost friends.

"Odin, Duo! Come on in. Did you have breakfast yet?"

"Hardly," Duo put up doe eyes, "A few pancakes, and no more! I'd kill for something to eat!"

It took Quatre only a snap with his fingers to call for two servants, wheeling a huge cart with covered trays into the room. Heero was delighted to see an array of food when the trays were uncovered, and happily joined Duo for second breakfast. Quatre was beaming at them.

"This is my summer house," he told Heero. "Or rather, my retreat. I own several houses on the colonies and on Earth."

"Must be great being so rich," Heero mumbled, half his mouth full.

"The fruits of very hard work," Quatre said. He didn't show any sign of being insulted. "My father and my father's father worked themselves to death to get the resource satellites up and running. Yes, I'm picking the fruits of their hard labor, benefiting from everything they established, but don't be mistaken; I can't sit back and relax. I need to work hard too, to maintain my network and be faithful to my principles. I have to work hard to keep this maintained, for future generations."

Heero nodded and took a sideway glance at Duo, who was eating rather silently. He had a cup of coffee in his hands and seemed far away with his thoughts.

"Duo, how does it taste?" Quatre asked.

"Wonderful as always," Duo answered, eyes narrowing. Why would he react to hostile on such an innocent question? Heero finished his roll of bread. He'd thought Trowa Barton to be the enigma of the bunch, but it was proven again and again that the longer he knew Duo Maxwell, the less he actually knew _of _him. The silence was broken by Trowa himself, sauntering into the room.

"I hope you've come prepared," Quatre said while finishing a cup of tea, "because I've got everything set up for our visit to the factory."

Heero almost choked, but managed to make it sound like a polite cough.

"A factory?"

"I have never claimed to be on the good side or on the winning side, Mister Lowe. Perhaps a visit to the factory will help you determine where you stand."

Heero felt cornered. Everyone in the room was looking at him. Alarm bells went off in his head. "Why all this trouble for a simple trader like me?"

"Drop the act," Duo said.

"What?" Heero turned to look at him. There was no anger or threat on the other's face. "What do you mean?"

"Drop the act," Duo repeated. "Don't make me say it for the third time."

"We know who you are, Heero Yuy," Quatre said. "You've come quite recommended in our circles, if I might say so. Too bad all our sources keep stressing the fact that you can't be bought - that there's nothing that can make you to come over our side."


	8. Chapter 8

The silence was deafening. Heero opened his mouth in quick denial, but he closed it shut after one look at Quatre Winner. This man didn't stand for lies. The game was over.

"Did Merquise personally whisper in your ear?" Heero all but gnarled. He didn't know why exactly agent 006 was the first person to come to mind - but in the light of recent circumstances, he was perhaps the _only _person to come to mind. He was exposed. This wasn't a situation he could talk his way out of. No gun and no gadgets at his disposal; he was screwed.

"We're not going to kill you." Quatre said. "Yet."

Heero wanted to throw up the food he had consumed just minutes ago. His mind raced with a thousand miles a minute. Duo's face was pale and he refused to look at Heero; he hadn't been acquainted with the news very long. Heero reminded himself to be very careful, maneuvering his way around this; one wrong word and he was dead.

"If you really want to know, it was indeed Merquise who ratted you out. He had a hefty price, though."

"The filthy rat!" It was out of his mouth before he could hold himself back. Quatre moved back to his desk, a surprisingly sad expression on his face. Heero fought against his anger, searching for his usual calm composure. If he lived to tell this, Merquise was dead! Dead and crippled at his feet! Quatre sat down.

"He wanted to have the two thousand conductors and the Gundam designs for himself. He promised me to reveal your identity and the danger you presented for our operation. I laughed at him the first time he approached me, until he… showed me evidence about your work. Then, I realized that indeed one person can make a difference, especially with the name of Heero Yuy. I didn't want to risk my whole operation just because of that person. I have a reputation to uphold, Heero. I'm a businessman, so I always go for the better deal."

"What better deal can a traitor make? Merquise ratted me out and botched the transaction in which I had to die conveniently," Heero said. "Why did you keep me alive?"

"Because I don't want you dead. I see qualifications in you that I can use for our cause. I promised Zechs that you were going to be killed during the transaction, and I'm sorry to say that I had to sacrifice Walker for it. Don't think I don't feel remorse about that, Heero. I'm not a cold-blooded killer, and a minor flunky he might be, he had a family and loved ones. The choice was hard, but between someone like you and a wannabe-criminal like Walker, I didn't need to hesitate. Walker's family has been compensated generously, though I'm very well aware that money won't compensate their loss. Like I said, I'm not a cold-blooded killer, and if it were up to me, I'd avoid casualties against every cost. Sometimes the choice is out of my hand."

"We presented Walkers body as yours and made Merquise as well as the Secret Service believe that you were dead." It was Trowa who spoke, without much intonation or emotion in his voice. Heero dug his nails into the palms of his hands. His head was spinning.

Duo was uncomfortably silent. He had stopped eating, and his hands were in his lap, idly. Heero's heart ached; not for being exposed, but for Duo. Knowing that Duo was suffering from the entire situation was more difficult to Heero than fighting for his own life; he desperately wanted to see Duo's eyes, but he was turned away from him, long chestnut bangs hiding his expression.

Quatre continued: "The transaction didn't go completely as envisioned. First, it was never the intention for Duo to get hurt, though we were more than pleasantly surprised that you saved him. Second, Treize Khushrenada decided single-handedly to get rid of Septem."

"You've got nothing to do with his replacement?"

"I don't belong to the Romefeller Foundation, Heero. Further explanations will have to wait. We don't have all the time in the world. I wasn't - and I'm still not - happy about this development, as Khushrenada's own plans interfere with mine. He's not the one to be manipulated, unlike Septem, and I fear with Kushurenada at the helm, things are going to get out of hand. We need to act now."

"I guess I have to thank you for being alive."

"You're still alive, for now on." Quatre cleared his throat. "I mentioned before, I'm a business man first and foremost, Heero Yuy. I see in you qualities and opportunities I can use for greater benefit. I have a proposal for you."

"Why not have Trowa put a bullet in my head this instant? Saves you the trouble," Heero spat out.

"Trowa?" Quatre arched an eyebrow, and a strange, annoyed look quickly crossed Trowa's face.

"It's because my surname is Barton," he said, "Heero must assume that I'm one of _those._"

He didn't utter 'mercenary', but everyone in the room understood the unspoken word. Quatre shook his head.

"That's a conversation for another time as well, I'm afraid. I will give you my proposal soon, Heero. Now, please be so kind as to follow us to the limousine. We're going to the factory so you can see for yourself what this is all about."

Heero's stomach had turned and twisted itself into quite a few knots. He wished he could have some time to gather his thoughts, as he didn't understand everything that just had happened. His life was spared, but for what purpose? A visit to a factory? What were his 'qualifications' Quatre was talking about, and which had saved his life? And HeadQuarters… he had to warn them about Zechs, he had to tell them that he wasn't dead, that a war was impending… and his even bigger frustration was that Duo came to walk behind him. His Duo, the man he wanted to love and to hold, and whose trust he had lost forever. The very fragile threads of the bond between them were broken, there was an immeasurable distance between them, a distance covered in ice. Silently, the men left the mansion and waited for the limousine to pull up. The same servants rushed to open the doors and allowed them to get in; with a heavy heart, Heero settled into the back seat.

* * *

The drive to the factory took about thirty minutes. The silence in the limousine felt pained. Heero was seated across from Duo, looking stubbornly out of the window, ignoring everybody and everything around him. Trowa sat next to Duo, keeping an eye on Heero. Even if his assumption about Trowa was wrong, Heero had the distinctive notion that Trowa could kill him with his bare hands. Quatre was reading some kind of business magazine, calmly, as if he was on his way to a meeting.

Heero suppressed a sigh. He was curious to learn about this 'business proposal' and Quatre's factory. His curiosity was piqued, he couldn't help it. His survival instincts were running on pure adrenaline; he was looking for a way to escape, yet he wanted to stay. He wanted to talk to Duo, he wanted to hear his voice, to look into his eyes and swear to him that he loved him, no more lies, and everything was going to be all right… how was he going to get back into control of the situation again? How long had they'd known? Heero tried to recall Duo's words, from before the transaction. Did he know by then? No, judging from Duo's reaction earlier this morning, he hadn't known for long. Quatre and Trowa had played the both of them, and it shed another light on the billionaire. How would Relena react if she knew all about this? Heero straightened himself. He had to wait and be calm at the moment. Sooner or later, an opportunity would arise.

"We're here," Quatre announced and put aside his magazine as soon as the limousine grinded to a halt. The driver, the man Duo had referred to as Rashid, doubled as a bodyguard. The man certainly was burly enough to stop an entire army. One blow with his giant hand would be enough to cause a severe concussion. Heero stepped out of the car and squinted his eyes against the bright, artificial sunlight. It was so different from the Earth's sun. Morbidly, he wondered if he would ever see Earth again, or if the colony's sun was the last bit of 'warmth' he was going to feel on his skin. If Quatre's proposal was… wrong, he probably wouldn't make it out alive.

On the outside, the factory looked like any other factory; a huge building with "Winner Metal Products" mounted on the huge front door. Heero tried to take in as many details as possible, his second nature as secret agent hard to ignore. Walking up the steps, the automatic glass doors opened and the entire party walked in.

"L3 is pretty cheap when it comes to labor costs," Quatre said, "and this factory is the first on the colony to provide employees with a health plan and a retirement plan. The salaries are according to Earth's standards; I don't believe in exploiting people. Keeping my employees happy is a first step to prosperity." He pointed to the left, and Heero's eyes followed his direction.

The glass window panes showed him the work floor, and from this height he could exactly see what people were doing. Long production lines took up the floor, and the workers, dressed with hairnets and gloves, were assembling regular household appliances: blenders, mixers, other kitchen tools. Supervisors walked around to help out and fix any problem. Everyone was concentrated, but looked healthy and happy, a lot different from the grey, sullen people in the streets of L3.

"As you can see, I'm doing my best to bring balance into society." Quatre was about to say more, when he was interrupted by an elder man, excitedly rubbing his hands.

"Mister Winner! What a pleasant surprise! Are you here to take a look at the books?"

"I want to use the meeting room downstairs please," Quatre answered. "Please have the accountants and human resources manager meet me there in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Mister Winner. And…your associates?"

"Mister Barton knows his way around. He will be taking test samples and check on the personnel here. Mister Yuy and Mister Maxwell here will be assisting him."

"Of course." The man had already forgotten about everyone else, focusing on Quatre who was in every inch the business man people knew on the outside. Heero was confused. What kind of business proposal could he expect in a factory for kitchen appliances? Trowa tapped on his shoulder.

"Follow me."

Duo went ahead, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. Trowa brought up the rear, not speaking more than was necessary. Heero watched Duo's dangling braid dangling and registered, as if he was looking through someone else's mind, that Duo knew his way around here, which meant that he had been here often. He kept noticing such things, it was his line of work, but it drove him insane. He had found someone, he had fallen in love with someone, but if things went wrong, he would never know if his feelings were returned, if he had a chance with him… and he could only think of Duo, not even about his own life. He shivered. Duo's rigid composure was unfriendly, and every movement was brusque. Duo held up a card to gain access, and when the door slid open, he all but stomped in.

They went downstairs, shoes clanking on endless metal stairs. Heero wondered why there wasn't an elevator in such a modern factory. The lights were dim, only increasing when the party approached them. He stopped counting the steps after a while; it seemed pointless to him anyway. Finally, they reached solid ground. Heero followed Duo to the end of a corridor, where they both halted. Trowa stalked past them and rummaged around. An audible click and he took a few steps back: the wall started to move, rumbling, slowly giving way to another room, as large as the main factory upstairs.

"Go in," Trowa said, not unfriendly. Heero stepped into the room, waiting for his eyes to adjust, from the dim corridor to this brightly lit space. The ceiling was high, and cranes moved around large rails to transport huge sheets of metal and all kinds of objects Heero could hardly describe. A factory below a factory? He quickly counted ten, fifteen men, working on something… extremely large… and bulky… and his eyes went wide. No wonder the ceiling was so high. _It was a goddamn mobile suit. Two_ mobile suits. _Three_ mobile suits, surrounded by scaffoldings on which the workers walked with their tools and equipment, hollering at each other.

"Dear Lord," escaped Heero's lips.

"Trowa! How nice of you to stop by." A tan, tall man approached them, shaking Trowa's hand as if he welcomed a long lost son. "Are you checking up on progress? There's nothing much to tell, besides…"

"It's alright, commander Sadaul," Trowa answered, "I've come here to introduce you to Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy."

"Mister Maxwell, a pleasure meeting you. I've heard a lot about you! I can't believe we finally meet! Mister Yuy… forgive me, but your name doesn't ring a bell."

Heero shook the man's hand. "I'm the one who sold the conductors."

"Ah!" The man's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Where are they? We could use them right about now!"

"Quatre brought them with him, but they need another round of inspection. Mister Yuy wasn't aware that he was delivered… faulty merchandise."

Heero gritted his teeth, but managed to conjure up a smile when Sadaul looked at him with something like pity in his eyes.

"How long is this going to take? We're not the only ones busy, you know."

Trowa looked briefly in Heero's direction before focusing his attention to Sadaul. "Quatre will have the conductors brought up as soon as possible, then you can have your engineers look at them. Anything else?"

"Take a look for yourself," Sadaul said, clearly disappointed that his precious conductors weren't ready yet. "There are lots of other things we can work on. We do need the conductors to make significant progress."

"You will have them soon enough." Trowa said dismissingly, and Sadaul took his leave. Trowa motioned Duo and Heero to come closer. He couldn't keep his eyes off of the mobile suits. These were no ordinary suits. Everybody knew who these suits were. These were…

"Gundams," Heero said, voice thick and throat raspy. "Why on Earth are you people rebuilding the Gundams?"

"This time the Gundams won't be the instruments of mass destruction, but the bringers of peace," Trowa said, voice suspiciously low and somehow… tender. "This time, the tables are turned around. They will set right what they did wrong."

"What do you mean?"

Trowa looked at him. "My name isn't Trowa Barton. Or, to put it differently, I'm not the original Trowa Barton."

"What?" Heero was confused. "What do you mean? Why are you telling me this?"

"To give you a brief explanation of the situation. Quatre believes that you'll make the right choice, and even though I don't necessarily agree, I don't see no harm revealing certain information to you… it's not like a dead man can relay our secrets."

Heero took in a deep gasp of breath and his body tensed up. Trowa wasn't carrying a gun and no one of the people Heero had met today, had been hostile to him - then he remembered that he was already dead. Would HQ immediately believe him if he just walked into the front door? He scowled. Trowa crossed his arms.

"Anyway, the original Trowa was part of the Barton Foundation, the same Foundation that decided to hurl a colony towards the Earth to cause a nuclear winter and send the Gundams to massacre the survivors and establish some sort of crooked peace on Earth."

"Operation Meteor," Heero said. "Foiled by the Gundam themselves, before they got tangled up into politics, choose the wrong side and caused more war and sorrow than anyone could ever imagine."

"Quite correct," Trowa nodded. "We thought that Dekim Barton, head of the Foundation, had either died in the two consecutive wars, or vanished without a trace since he no longer had any funding or followers."

"But…" Heero continued.

"But we're wrong," Trowa finished the sentence, albeit dryly. "Even worse, he's well alive and kicking, and has teamed up with allies to carry out his former plan."

"What? Who wants to drop a colony on Earth? Who still believes in that?"

"Anyone who still believes that the colonies are superior to the Earth and the Earth is the hotbed of raids and wars that's spread to the colonies. Dekim's ideas have found followers everywhere- even in the Romefeller Foundation."

"Khushrenada didn't seem the guy to drop a colony to me," Heero said, disturbed. He couldn't match his image of the impeccably clad Khushrenada with someone who believed that massacre was the way to gain peace.

"We're talking different levels here," Trowa said, beckoning Duo and Heero to approach the mobile suits even closer. They were in various stages of completion, each one bearing a different design.

"These three are for us," he said. "Me, Quatre, Wufei."

"For _Quatre_?"

"Don't underestimate him, Heero. You might have a warped opinion about him, but he's a terrific leader and strategist. You'd be surprised to learn where he's capable of."

"He'll continue to surprise me if I'll live, yes."

Trowa ignored his comment and pointed to the suit to the left. "That one is going to be mine," he said, admiration and anxiety seeping through his words. "Gundam 03, HeavyArms."

Heero saw the dark green and blue outline of the mobile suit, with the protruding chest open, showing massive storage for missiles and ammunition. If this one represented the heavy artillery common for L3, he expected the Gundam to carry nothing less.

"Gundam 04, Sandrock." Heero could see the outline of the mobile suit with the exceptionally thick armor. It had an exotic feeling to it, as if it was build for crossing massive deserts. One of its cutting weapons was ready and mounted on the back of the majestically Gundam.

"Gundam 05, Altron." This one clearly bore the marks of the proud Chinese warrior, in honor and remembrance of the perished L5 colony. The green and red colors and the head antennae were replicated from old Chinese tradition. Heero could really see Wufei piloting this one.

"That's pretty…impressive," he had to say.

Trowa showed a wistful smile. "It's been a long term plan, but recent events forced us to speed things up. Quatre will inform you; we'll have to get back to the meeting room."

They left the huge workplace the same way they had entered. Duo hadn't spoken a single word.

* * *

Quatre was waiting for them in the meeting room, and in the meantime lunch was served. Heero didn't have any appetite, and Duo declined with simply a shake of his head. Heero didn't like it. He'd hoped for at least one chance to talk to Duo, at least one chance to talk before he'd die. And dying he would, before he would give Quatre Winner a chance to recreate the bloodiest mistake in history.

The strained tension was insufferable. Trowa barely touched lunch either, and Quatre sipped his umpteenth cup of tea that day. He discarded the lunch after eating only one sandwich.

"Trowa told you already bits and pieces, and I'm left to fill in the big picture," he said.

"Just tell me why you're rebuilding Gundams and claiming it's for the benefit of mankind!" Heero all but growled at him.

"Very well. You have a right to know the answers, after everything that has happened. Trowa, turn off the lights, please?"

The room was darkened and Quatre fumbled a little with an old-fashioned beamer, to project a picture of an elderly man with a deep wrinkled face, framed with long, sleek white hair and clad in common, civilian clothes. Intrigued, Heero leaned forward to study the picture.

"Trowa told you about the Barton Foundation? Yes? Okay. The man on the picture is Quinze. We don't know more about him than he's quite the radical man: he was involved in the original Operation Meteor and according to our sources, he only lives for carrying out that plan a second time. That's why he created White Fang, his own army of followers."

"Continue," Heero said, after a short pause. He was really intrigued.

"White Fang disposes over the same technology we do, but the mobile suits they're building are far inferior to Gundams. They believe in strength in numbers, but they aren't to be underestimated. They _are_ busy, however, building Gundams of their own: the Vayeate and Mercurius. Progress on them is far and far slower than ours."

Quatre showed the next picture, another image of Quinze with a military clad man who had to be Dekim Barton. "We are more than convinced that Dekim and Quinze have allied. They have a spaceship called the Libra to execute their plans. They've seized factory equipment on the moon, building mobile suits as they see fit, supervised by Tubarov."

"Tubarov!" Heero hissed. The man had once been a target of one of his missions, and had managed to make a spectacular escape. He was the first - and only - to escape Heero. He'd thought the man had died of old age, but it turned out he was still up to his antics.

"They've build quite the fortress for themselves," Trowa said. He flicked the lights back on. "It's going to be very difficult to attack them. They took years to carefully prepare, and we still don't know the magnitude of their plans. For large parts, we can only assume and speculate."

Quatre nodded. "White Fang has various help, and I believe Dorothy Catalonia and Zechs Merquise are involved."

"What!" Heero yelled. _Relena! _Quatre put up his hand.

"The Queen is safe, for now," he said. "Do you really think that we'd sacrifice the embodiment of peace? People don't realize how fragile the peace is they're holding, the freedom they're breathing, the freedom they think they're enjoying. They assume everything is all fine and well, but they don't have the slightest clue of the threat leering at them. And I, together with the people I have at my side, am going to stop those threats."

"How altruistic," Heero muttered.

"My father died in front of my eyes," Quatre hissed. "He was shot down with such brutal military power, that the force of the explosion threw my shuttle of course, killing my eldest sister and injuring me."

"So now it's time to answer violence with violence?"

"If people wish to see the Gundams as threat, so be it," Quatre said, eyes flashing. "I can't change the public opinion, but what I can change is the power balance. There are people out there planning to hurl a colony towards the Earth. I don't know the personal motivations of Catalonia and Merquise, but I do know they don't have the best interest of mankind at heart."

"Where do I fit in this picture?" Heero asked. "If you're going to kill me, please give me the chance to at least warn Relena. I don't mind begging for it - just allow me to give her the message that she's in danger."

Quatre looked at him quizzically and shook his head. "Hear us out first. I studied your file and I know that you're strong enough, mentally and physically, to take on any task and that you'd die for the preservation of peace. Heero…"

Silence fell. Quatre stared at him. "How would you like to operate a Gundam yourself?"

The brusque snort that ruptured the silence didn't come from Quatre, Trowa, or Heero - it was Duo. When all eyes stared into his direction, he glared fiercely back, eyes smoldering with anger and more, before he left the room. Trowa turned around to follow him, but Quatre motioned him to sit down.

"Let him be," he said and Trowa stopped in his movements.

"There are many ways to achieve peace," Heero said, slowly. No matter how much it pained him to see Duo leave, the topic at hand was more important. "One is to eradicate the feelings of fighting and discarding all weapons, as according to Relena and her policy of Total Pacifism. Another way is to force people into so-called peace and to control that peace with excessive force. Which method is it for you, Quatre Winner?"

"None of what you mentioned," Quatre said. "I don't intend to rule the world or to enforce world peace by military force. That'd be rather counterproductive, don't you think? No, you have to see the bigger picture here."

"Picture it for me, then."

"Like I said, White Fang is planning to drop a colony on the Earth to wipe out mankind and to remove the hotbed of emotions, Earth. Therefore, the White Fang has searched for and found themselves allies in Zechs Merquise and Dorothy Catalonia, both ulterior motives unknown. They have funding, they have sympathizers, and they have facilities and equipment. But their plans don't end with dropping a colony on Earth. They have decided to mass produce mobile suits."

"That would require the training of many pilots," Heero pointed out. "It takes years to accomplish that, and every secret service in the world would jump at them if they found out."

"That's why they don't equip the mobile suits with human pilots, but with a computer system rendering them to dolls: mobile dolls. White Fang took out the human aspect of war, while they decided to wipe out the human aspect on Earth. They've developed a system to pilot the dolls from a remote distance."

"How does that even work?"

"This system is nothing like any other system I've seen. The mobile doll system doesn't interpret nor analyze battle data, it doesn't adapt itself accordingly the used skills and techniques. It's just a system that gives the control over all of the suits to one person, and that single person is in total control of the fight. Like I said, the human aspect is removed, and makes one human God with a soulless army at his or hers fingertips."

"Great God," Heero said, baffled.

"That's why we need your help, Heero Yuy. You're a man with a heart in the right place. You have a great sense of justice. Judging from your file, I'd say you can esteem a situation pretty well and you have a great heart for peace. Well now, Heero, this is my proposal. You get a Gundam to pilot, and in exchange you'll rid the world of a very high threat: the White Fang and the mobile doll system. I'm taking a great risk with you, but either with or without you, this is going to happen. You can stand from the sidelines watching Earth be destroyed and White Fang exerting power with an army of brain dead, inhuman mobile suits. You can participate and bring this threat to an end. I certainly can use your help."

"You're still going to kill me if I refuse?" Heero said.

"Your file mentioned that you weren't susceptible for bribes or any other means of pressure. I guess that nothing can sway your opinion or decision once you've made one. I'd hate to see a bullet wasted on you, I'd hate to see your life wasted as you're such a valuable asset. This is a good cause, Heero."

"I'm not so sure about your good cause," Heero said. "When this is all over, you have five Gundams finished. That's a lot of firepower and a huge threat from _your_ side."

"I understand your objection." Quatre looked tired in yellow tube light. "I'm ready to surrender myself and all my technology and the Gundams, to Her Majesty's Queen of the World Relena's Secret Service as soon as this is finished.

"What about your shady contacts? Romefeller? Dermail?"

"Dermail wasn't finished by us, if that's what you mean. The man overstepped boundaries and I was ready to blackmail him or find any other way to deal with him. The bullet didn't have my command written on it, Heero. I even think the bullet was meant for you - maybe a first attempt of Zechs to get you out of the way."

"Hmm.." Heero didn't have an answer to that. Quatre's suggestion left an unsettling sensation in his stomach. "Still, you haven't answered what happens when I refuse."

"You die," Quatre said, blunt. "Don't see me as a weak person, Heero. If you won't receive a bullet from us, someone else will. There's a war at stake here, and whether you die by our hands or by enemies' hands is totally up to you. Do not think that I don't know how to deal with these situations. I won't hesitate to fight to win and to use force if it's necessary to win. I prefer no victims are involved, of course. If it was up to me, we had peace decades ago, my father wouldn't have died and I wouldn't have had to take these steps."

"What about Duo?"

Quatre looked at Trowa, than glanced back at Heero. "Duo… will be dealt with." When he saw Heero's frightened look, he smiled. "Not in that way. Please, I hope I didn't exaggerate. I'd be crazy to kill a master thief. Duo is a good, no, a great friend, Heero. I'd like to keep it that way. He's a bit upset, that's all."

Heero didn't like it at all, but remained silent. Quatre folded his arms.

"I'd like to hear your answer."

"Will you allow me to contact Relena at least, to let her know that she's in danger?"

"At this time, it looks safer to me that you remain dead, for the sake of every party involved. Relena is perfectly safe at the moment; half of the personal staff surrounding her, are my people. They're trained to respond to every threat, and will take care of it should something happen to her. She's as safe and secure as she can be, Heero. I'm very sorry that she's having a hard time, coping with your death. I can't risk telling her that you're still alive. It's a grave lie, and I'm willing to share the blame and the grief."

"If Relena is safe, then I agree with you."

Heero was taken aback by surprise when he saw a bright smile on Quatre's face. He was beaming!

"So good to hear that you're joining us, Heero. Welcome aboard! I'll have you assigned detailed information later and let you know when it's time for you to start your Gundam training."

"And which Gundam is going to be mine? The other three are all spoken for," Heero said.

"Two Gundams are already finished. They're our biggest trump card at the moment. You'll meet them once time is appropriate."

"That leaves us with one pilot short," Heero said.

Quatre reclined in his chair. He tapped on the armrest of the chair, as if he was suddenly nervous. "I'm giving the first Gundam to you, Heero. The second one…" - a sudden sigh of respect in his voice - "is a rather unique design. I think that one…is a bit farfetched, if I might say so. There has to be a very unique pilot for a very unique Gundam. Let's say it has to wait until we have the right pilot. I'm not sure how to put it… but it seems that this particular Gundam isn't very easy satisfied with just any pilot. It requires more... compassion. I don't know how to explain it."

"Compassion? For a _Gundam?_" Heero didn't know what to make of Quatre's words. The other stood up, visibly fatigued. The meeting was over.

"We'll meet up again at dinner tonight. If you'll excuse me…"

He left the room. Heero presumed he was going to talk to Duo. That left him with Trowa.

"What's your deal with this, apart from your ties to the Barton Foundation?"

"I don't have much to do with the Barton Foundation," Trowa answered. "As I've said, I'm not the original Trowa Barton. I am… was a nameless mercenary. I knew nothing about Gundams and didn't care for any political threat. After I met Quatre, I decided to join his side. I don't feel particularly tied to this colony, but my own contacts proved to be valuable. I'd follow Quatre to the end of the world." He suddenly gaped like a fish, and tried to talk over it. "We'll go back to the mansion soon, and Auda will assign you a room. There's still much to discuss."


	9. Chapter 9

Duo was absent at dinner. The entire topic of the Gundams was avoided, as other guests were invited at the dinner table. Quatre was still a businessman, and he had lots of connections that he wished to entertain. He was kind and friendly, and so much unlike the hardened, tough negotiator who had proposed Heero his own Gundam that it was hard to think this was one and the same person. Heero didn't participate in the conversation, he only listened in as he ate. His adrenaline rush was over and he felt tired, as if he had run two marathons on his last energy reserves. He didn't care for the other guests and as soon as dinner was over, he excused himself. Quatre nodded at him before he left the room, reminding Heero that he wasn't a prisoner, but not exactly free to go wherever he pleased.

Quatre's staff was called the Manguanac Corps. Over forty men who were all extremely loyal to him; Rashid, the burly driver acting like a bodyguard, was the head of the 'private army'. They were all diligent and hard workers, and trained in several combat techniques. Heero tried to look for weaknesses and flaws before composing a plan of escape, but so far he couldn't discover any. He decided to talk to Duo first and held up a servant in the long hallway.

"Can you tell me where Duo's room is? Has he eaten anything?"

The man nodded. "Mister Maxwell has been served dinner in his room. Third floor, second door on the right, sir."

"Thank you," Heero said and left for the third floor. When he arrived, he carefully knocked on the second door.

"It's me, Heero," he said before opening the door. He peeked inside. Duo sat behind a desk, laptop in front of him, clicking away at the keyboard.

"I didn't give you permission to enter." His voice was cold, so un-Duo-like that it sent shivers down Heero's spine.

"I'm sorry, Duo-"

"About what?"

He didn't turn around. Heero hated talking to his back. "About everything."

"About how you lied to me? About how you used me?"

"I didn't use you, Duo, you've got to believe me. I couldn't introduce myself to you as a secret agent, now could I? I lied about my identity, but I didn't lie about anything else."

"It's nice to hear something honest, for a chance. I told you before I couldn't figure you out - now I know why. You're a fucking double-faced traitor of an asshole."

Heero winced with every coarse word. "I never got the chance to tell you something, Duo."

"As if I'm going to believe a word you're going to say!"

Heero closed the door and closed the distance between him and Duo. He put his hands on Duo's shoulders, feeling the other's body immediately tense up. He took a very deep breath.

"Duo, from the moment that I saw you… I knew that you…" Gods, this was awkward and difficult and weird at the same time, "I…I love you."

He leaned into him and kissed him on the top of his head, smelling the typical cinnamon scent of Duo's hair. "I really love you."

"You've got to be kidding me. Are you for real?" Duo's voice lacked vehemence. "Is this another one of your lies?"

"No it's not, and yes, I'm for real. Very real." Heero's heart beat faster. At least Duo didn't reject him, not immediately. He shifted his hands towards Duo's neck, thumbs caressing his skin.

"And now what?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've got it really going on for yourself, Heero. You really have made it for yourself!" Duo stood up, brusquely batting Heero's hands away. "I wanted to fight for the colonies, I wanted to fight for independency, and you take it all away from me!"

"What…" Heero started.

"You fucking waltz in, take everything you want, you drop a bomb that you're a fucking secret agent, you use me, then you suddenly claim to love me and you get a Gundam as a thank you present!"

"What, are you jealous?" Heero said, dumbfounded. It wasn't the best choice of words, he had no idea why he said it and he immediately regretted it - but he didn't have time to apologize, as Duo lunged at him and started pummeling him.

"You sick son of a bitch! Bastard! I thought you were on our side, I thought that you actually cared for the colonies, but you were a liar, just like everyone else! I should've known, you fucker!"

Duo's elbow swung at his face, and only because of trained reflexes and years of fighting experience, Heero managed to dodge the blow. "Duo!"

He moved up his other arm to fend off Duo's next blow, but the other punched him right in the stomach, knocking all the wind out of him. Heero stumbled a few steps backwards. He might be a little taller and a lot stronger, Duo proved to be much more agile and faster. Blow after blow landed on Heero's body and he grunted, accepting the pain. He refused to fight back and injure Duo. He knew how to incapacitate someone without any bloodshed, but he simply didn't get a chance - Duo was so fast, moving all around, hitting him, kicking him, punching him, yelling at him.

Finally, he managed to get the upper hand; Duo swung with his arm, leaving his right side open and Heero tackled him immediately, wrestling him to the floor. He pinned Duo with his arms, breathing heavily in his ear.

"Quit it, Duo. Stop!"

"Get off of me," Duo hissed, "get off of me!"

He obeyed. Heero got up slowly, his eyes not leaving Duo. The other didn't lash out at him again; his chest heaving with the exertion. Heero extended his hand and it hurt when Duo didn't take it. Instead, he rolled away from Heero, got up on all fours and when he straightened himself, his hand went to his throat, eyes wide.

"What's the matter?"

"My…" Duo started to look around frantically. Heero was confused. He didn't understand what was going on, until he saw something next to his left foot; it shimmered a little, like silver. He bent to pick it up and when he opened his hand, he held a crucifix in his hand. The chain was broken. Duo gasped.

"Give it back!" This wasn't Duo. This low, menacing growl was animalistic, inhuman. It terrified Heero. "Give it back!"

"The chain is broken. I'm sorry, I'll have it repaired…"

"Fuck you!" Duo snatched the crucifix out of Heero's hand and the look he gave him was borderline homicidal. He stormed out of the room and threw the door shut.

For the first time in his life, Heero Yuy felt like he had failed everything and everyone, but mostly himself. He felt so empty that he sat down on the bed, fighting to get his breathing and himself under control again.

* * *

The next morning, after a night of restless sleep, Heero was surprised to learn that Quatre and Trowa had left the mansion and that a certain Trent had arrived to see him. He gathered quickly enough that Trent was going to teach him the basics of Gundam piloting, and he absorbed all the information as a sponge, fascinated by the subject matter. Duo was absent during breakfast and lunch and Heero went upstairs for the second time, hoping that Duo would be calmed down so he could talk to him. When he reached the door to Duo's room, he took a deep breath and knocked.

"Duo?"

He knocked again, waiting for an answer. He waited five minutes, to no avail. No answer. Heero decided to enter and opened the door. A flash of fear went through him when he saw the unoccupied room. Duo was gone. The bed was neatly made and it was obvious no one had slept in it. The closet was empty and the adjacent bathroom devoid of anything personal; no shampoo, soap or comb. With a sigh, Heero looked dejectedly around the room. Duo was gone, and so were his chances at anything remotely resembling a relationship…if there had been any chance at all to begin with. He suddenly noticed a white envelope on the desk. His heart made a double jump as he ripped the envelope away to reveal a letter. It was a short one: "_Heero/Odin/whoever you are this week, you surprised me. I don't have an answer for you yet. Give me some time. I figure you're too busy with your Gundam training anyway. Listen to Quatre and follow his orders. We'll meet again. Someday."_

The letter wasn't signed and it certainly didn't hold the promise of love a lifetime's worth, but Heero was relieved. Duo asked for some time; it wasn't a 'yes, I love you too', but it wasn't a 'no' either. He would take anything he could get. Heero folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket. He went downstairs to the Gundam factory, carefully avoiding the personnel of the regular factory. Quatre had told him that these people didn't know anything about Gundams and weren't aware of the secret activities, right under their feet. The noise of their equipment and the production lines covered up the noises of the cranes and machinery at work to rebuild the huge mobile suits. Heero searched out commander Sadaul and talked to him about the designs and technical details of the Gundams. Lastly, he asked about the other two, already finished, Gundams.

"They're in a safe, secured location," Sadaul answered him. "Master Quatre is widely known, and though he's careful, he runs the risk of being exposed every day. We've taken great precautions to protect that what we have rebuilt with such effort and difficulties, and we don't want them to be destroyed in fear. But let me tell you, those two are truly state of the art."

"Can you describe them to me?"

The man shook his head. "I certainly won't, Mister Yuy. You will have to see the grandeur for yourself."

* * *

Between the long hours of his extensive training, Heero was surprised again when Chang Wufei paid him a visit. As before, the Chinese warrior popped up out of nowhere; Heero hadn't expected to ever see him again. He was even more surprised when Wufei brought him news about Duo.

"Quatre asked him to go back to his colony, L2," Wufei said. "The rebel forces are extremely volatile, and the rumors that the mobile doll system originates there are growing stronger. Do not worry about him, Yuy. He can take care of himself."

It was strange to hear Wufei refer to him with his real surname. Heero had no illusion that Wufei wasn't completely up-to-date with the entire situation. After all, Gundam 05 was reserved for him. He was going to play an even bigger role in this entire situation, just like Heero himself.

"I know," Heero said. "I know he's not a fragile damsel in distress. He took the news about me… well, being someone different… pretty bad."

"Duo does not like being lied to. He is extremely touchy about that. He never lies, you know. Run and hide, but never tell a lie."

"What?"

"It was some kind of motto, a slogan he used to say. He runs and hides, but he never tells a lie. Lying to him destroys immediately any trust he had in you. And besides… you did save his life, did you not? He already feels indebted to you, and then it is revealed that you are a secret agent. Now he feels like you used him to get into our circle. You cannot blame him for being pissed off."

"I guess," Heero shrugged as if it didn't bother him. He couldn't tell Chang Wufei of all people that much more emotional issues were involved. "You seem to know him well. Did Duo ever tell you something about a church?"

"Bits and pieces. I do not ask. I do not pry. I know it is his personal demon, and I know that one day he will divulge it to me, when the time is ready. Not sooner, not later. I do not believe in chasing someone's personal secrets. Everybody has their own demons to bear."

"As do you with the Chang clang?"

Wufei narrowed his eyes. "That is hardly a secret. I am well aware of that particular demon. I would not shed a tear if people died in exchange for all the lives lost on L5. But I am still human enough not to wish that onto the people of Earth. There is no justice in blind vengeance, and I should know, as I went down that path for quite a long time. It took my friendship and some long talks with Winner on that part to show me the way of fighting together. I know that I am better off on my own, but I also know that once I fight alone, I am better off with my friends. So I follow Winner and fight for my ancestors and my people, so their sacrifice will not be in vain."

Heero pondered Wufei's words when a servant came to the table with a phone. Wufei accepted the call. Heero used the interruption to finish his coffee; they just had lunch.

"What? Yes. Yes, I will investigate." He gave the phone back to the servant and turned his attention back to Heero. "There is trouble brewing. Some of Winner's shipments are not making it through customs. It seems that someone is exerting a stricter control on Winner's manufacturing and production procedures. Which is strange, as he never experienced any difficulties before. Something you know about?"

"It has to be Zechs," Heero gritted his teeth. "He's abusing his new position to smoke Quatre out and force him to reveal his plans. Une must be warned that the real enemy is Zechs, not us. He abuses the secret service to find out who is with him or against him."

"That Zechs character is going up my hit list very fast," Wufei said. "Well, if he wants to flush us out, he is going to choke on all the crap he is about to dredge up." He rose from his chair. "I have to investigate this news. I suggest you stay here and continue your training, as much and as thorough as possible. It seems we are going to need your piloting Gundam skills sooner than ever."

Heero also rose from his seat. "It was nice seeing you."

A ghost of a smile tugged at Wufei's lips. "The feeling is mutual, Yuy."

* * *

After hours of more training, Heero was ready to simply dive into his bed and sleep for a week. He took a quick shower and tried to clear his mind. There was so much information to absorb, so many things to learn, and Trent was a merciless instructor. Piloting a Gundam wasn't the same as driving a Bentley. So many controls, so many instruments! He was sure it was going to haunt his dreams tonight. Heero pulled the covers over him and prepared for a night of rest. Not a few hours later, he was roughly shaken awake.

"Wake up! Wake up, now!"

Heero shot straight up, ready to attack the man, who bounced away from him as if he was a venomous snake.

"It's me, commander Sadaul! Hurry up! We've been compromised, there's no time to waste!"

Heero jumped out of bed, while the commander grabbed a duffle bag and started stuffing it with clothes and whatever he could find in the room.

"What happened? Tell me!"

Sadaul looked pained. "Master Quatre has been arrested! I don't know on which grounds, but he's being held on L4, his own colony! His shuttle was grounded and searched! He's now in secured custody, and Rashid is trying to get hold of our lawyers. I don't know what's going on, but I have strict orders to follow in case we were compromised. Please, do as I say!"

Heero quickly dressed himself. "What's going to happen?"

"Immediate evacuation of the premises," the commander answered. "Everyone who's not in Master Quatre's service has to leave, and a Gundam pilot in training would certainly raise questions. I don't have time for this, I have an entire mobile suit facility to dismantle. Get your stuff and hurry up! Quick!"

Heero took a gasp of breath when he saw Sadaul pointing a gun at him, but the commander trusted the weapon in his hands. He recognized it as his own Walther PPK .28, the weapon Auda had confiscated when Heero had entered the mansion.

"Go now," the commander ushered him out of the room. "There's a car waiting for you outside. You have to disappear! Hurry! I must ship the Gundam prototypes off before they're discovered and they're one thousand ways more important than your skinny ass. Now move!"

Heero thundered down the stairs, taking two steps at the time and ended up in the hallway, with his duffle bag in hand. "Where am I going to go to? What about the training?"

"The car will take you to the nearest spaceport," Sadaul said. "Make yourself scarce. They will find you sooner or later. First we have to do damage control. Master Quatre is important now. You're not my priority. Get out and stay low!"

Heero slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and left the mansion; it was dark and cold outside. The artificial climate control simulated the natural routine of day and night; somehow it made L3 seem menacing than ever. Heero refused to be intimidated and quickly walked over to the car, its engine running. He got in and barely seated himself properly before the vehicle sped off. Questions were running around in his head. Quatre Winner had been exposed, which meant that someone had rattled about his connections with the Romefeller Foundation, the Barton Foundation or worse, the rebuilding of the Gundams. All of Quatre's employees were loyal, especially the Manguanac Corps.. Zechs… Quatre had dealt with Zechs, and this reeked of his work method. Who knew how far he would go? He was systematically getting rid of his enemies, former and current ones, eliminating them one by one. But why? What was his reason, his motive? Had Zechs discovered that he, Heero, wasn't dead and that he'd been lied to, and this was his revenge? Why was nobody stopping him? Did he have such a strong grip on the Secret Service that even Une's hands were tied? Zechs wanted the conductors and chips for himself to progress the completion of his own mobile suits. Heero shuddered at the thought what Zechs would do with mobile suits on his own, including the mobile doll system.

He had to get his priorities straight. He couldn't contact HeadQuarters as he was still presumed dead. He had faced worse opponents. Zechs Merquise was nothing but a fly in his soup. A big fly, and he had Duo to worry about. Duo! Duo was his best chance to get everything back together. He had to get to L2 as fast as he could and search out Duo. Together, they would work out what to do. Right now, he didn't have any other choice. He was prepared to face Duo's anger or disappointment, or whatever the other was feeling just to get the chance to see him again and work with him again. Resolved, Heero walked into the spaceport to book himself a flight to L2 and a calmness came over him that was strangely comfortable.

* * *

L2 lacked the impressive intimidation of the heavy artillery of L3, or the wealth of L4. The colony with the weakest government of all the colony clusters was abundant with poverty and the source of many rebel factions. L2 had received the brunt of the two previous wars and ever since then, it had been the birthplace of trouble. The economy was crippled, the government was corrupt and crime was widespread. If one would ask him about a dystopian society, L2 came to Heero's mind. Even now with the current fragile peace, the situation was still worse on L2 than on any other colony. It would be difficult to find Duo. Heero didn't even know if it was his real name, or a code name. Tired after the impromptu space flight, he decided to get some sleep first. Heero booked a room in a shabby hotel and refrained from shuddering when a rat scuttled alongside his leg.

When he woke up, he freshened himself up at the sink (no shower available) and dressed warmly. He walked down the stairs and approached the skinny woman who had rented him the room.

"Is here a church nearby - a well known church?"

She looked at him with a baffled expression. "Do you want to say your prayers? You've picked a lousy location for it, sonny. You need to pray on L2; pray that you stay alive, but rest assured, your prayers here are never heard."

"A church," Heero pressed, not liking being called "sonny". The woman shook her head.

"There aren't any churches around here."

"They're all destroyed?" He pressed again.

"The Maxwell Church," she said, eyes suddenly glazing over. "That was the first one to go. The Father was killed, the nun and everyone inside. It was big news, over fifteen years ago. It was the first church on L2 to get a monument." She shrugged, suddenly cackling. "Then all the other churches went down, and they got no monument or plaque. The news value was low and people lost their interest." She snickered roughly. "Everybody on L2 knows about the Maxwell Church, sonny. It's quite an end from here; you better go early in the morning, it's safer then."

"I'll go see it now, thank you," Heero said coolly and left the reception area, but he heard the woman clearly mumble: "Your funeral."

There was no such thing as taxi service and he was laughed out loud when he asked a bystander about public transportation. That left him the only option to buy a car, which was easily done; people dealt in everything at every street corner. He found himself a car, a vehicle ready for the junkyard, and he had to pay a price for it that would have Earth citizens baffled. The salesman didn't look surprised when Heero paid in cash, in fact, he preferred it - checks and bank deposits weren't guaranteed, hard coin was more valuable. When he added a few bills extra, Heero got excellent directions to the church and an air conditioner for the car.

Heero drove off, shaking his head. The colonists always complained that the skirmishes on Earth had transferred to the colonies, but it didn't seem that the people wanted to change here. Pure peace and weapon disarmament was only possible if everybody believed in it, but even after two terrible wars Heero still wondered if people truly wanted peace. There was always this power struggle, someone who wanted to be in charge of Earth, or a colony, and people opposing it. He shook his head again. Relena was perfect for the representation of the people and the perfect Queen advocating peace; but she lacked the understanding of the raw, primal feelings of fighting and destruction that had a home in mankind.

He turned on the headlights and stepped on the gas. The police force on L2 was just as corrupt as the government and he wasn't exactly worrying about getting a speed ticket. All that it took was to add some extra cash and the police officer would gladly let him off the hook. This came all out from his personal account; Heero couldn't return home, to Earth, to his quiet life, to his professional life as a secret agent before this was solved. Not only because of the public threat of the mobile doll system or the backstabbing of Zechs Merquise, but also because he didn't want to leave before he had a chance to talk to Duo and to get their relationship going. Duo had mentioned in his letter that he needed time. It had to mean something - it hadn't been a rejection, and if Duo needed time to think about it, he wasn't against to a relationship in the first place, was he?

_I beg if I need to,_ Heero thought, grimacing. He didn't want to lose Duo before they even got started. He had memorized the directions the car salesman had given him, as road signs were completely non-existent. Heero drove for over 90 minutes at high speed, until he saw four skyscrapers in a star pattern. He took turns left and right until he ended up on a big square on the outskirts of the suburb. The remains of the church were clearly visible in the evening sky. None of the lanterns were working. The moon shone on the silver plaque that was mounted on a cross. Heero pulled over, got out of the car and walked towards the ruins.

One blackened wall still remained standing up, pointing upwards angrily. Heero read the names on the plaque and almost choked when he read "and fifteen young souls, taken too early from us". Children had died in this accident where Duo was the only survivor of. He walked back to the car, but not until he made sure that the invisible, silent eyes watching him had noticed him.

Heero returned to the site the next evening and the evening after that. Even though no one approached him, he knew he was being watched. He was curious if the underworld of L2 worked as fast as the others he'd encountered; sooner or later, Duo would learn of his presence. It was a big risk to take, but a risk he had to take if he wanted to see Duo again. It was either this, or searching for the scrap yard Duo had mentioned after he had just met him. Somehow, he had the feeling that visiting the church would bring out Duo faster than searching all over L2 for him at different scrap yards.

The fourth night found him again at the base of the monument, and this time it felt different. Someone else was coming, and Heero knew Duo made his steps audible on purpose. If he wanted to, the thief could sneak up on you unnoticed and kill you before you even noticed you were being killed.

"Fifteen young souls," Heero said softly.

"Shinigami had no mercy that night," he was answered, as softly as his own voice, but with the unmistakably deep baritone. "When he showed himself to me, I thought it was fitting to take his name, after he'd taken everything from me."

"It must've been so hard for you." Heero didn't move. "The crucifix… was it your only memory?"

"She gave it to me with her dying breath." Duo's voice came from behind him. "Sister Helen blessed me and still talked about peace and love when blood spilled out of her. Her hair was matted with blood and she could only think of how to bless me and to teach me how to be forgiving."

"I'm sorry I broke the chain. I now realize what it meant to you."

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. And it worked, because you're here."

"The kids in this neighborhood still look out after each other. It's something I taught them; no matter what the circumstances, always look after each other. They spotted you on the first night of course, but hesitated if I should be told the news. They can't decide well enough yet if I want to be bothered with news about the church or not." He kicked a pebble aside. "Sometimes I think I'm cursed with bearing the tragedy of the church alone, though I want to leave it behind me so badly."

"Or maybe someone can help you carry that burden." Heero whispered.

"I've encountered nothing but lies from someone," Duo retorted. Heero didn't flinch, but clenched his fists instead, a movement that didn't escape Duo.

"We need to talk. Have you heard the news?"

"Follow me," he heard Duo say and Heero turned around. Duo already walked in front of him, braid tucked away under the black cap. Truly, he was a creature of the night. They walked a slight distance to a dilapidated building and Duo held the cracked door open for him.

"Come in."

It probably used to be an office, Heero thought as he looked around. The floor hadn't been swept or mopped in ages, and the chairs and desks were sticky and tagged with graffiti. Duo stood behind a small kitchen counter, grinding coffee beans as he was boiling the water.

"Did you hear the news about Quatre?"

Duo nodded tersely, focused on the coffee. When he got out the mugs, he spared Heero an unfriendly look.

"Why didn't you return to Earth, to your Secret Service and let them deal with it?"

"Right," Heero snorted. "Let's see: hey guys, here I am, not really dead, and the one you've promoted in my place is backstabbing you and swiftly killing and eliminating his enemies, using your facilities and when he's ready he'll overthrow you too. By the way, he has his own space ship and intends to drop a colony on Earth."

Duo laughed his rambunctious laugh. How Heero had missed it! He smiled himself.

"You're right. But I guess you've dealt with similar missions before? Quatre offered me a look at your file, but I didn't feel like it."

"Wow, when I return, I have to convince Une to switch security systems if my file is that publicly accessible."

Duo shrugged as he poured the coffee. "Quatre has a lot of influence, literally and figuratively. Maybe it has been one of your own that put the files in his hands."

_Lucrezia Noin? Sylvia Noventa? _Heero's mind was automatically processing and eliminating candidates. Both Noin and Noventa had access to personnel files- the idea of the secretaries giving out secret files had him baffled.

"Anyway, I wanted to be with you," he started. "To talk about... what happened."

"Wufei was exposed at a deal," Duo said, voice curt, eyes lingering on Heero. "A routine transaction was blown by a mole. Wufei never talks, so I'm sure that the information on Quatre has never come from him. Someone else must've blabbed, someone from the inside."

"What was the transaction about?" Heero accepted the mug of watery coffee. "Chang never struck me as the person to do dealing and bargaining."

"He doesn't," Duo confirmed. "But don't forget that Wufei isn't working for Quatre exclusively, just like me. We're just hired for the job. We've known each other for years now and I wouldn't hesitate to call us friends, but we work on separate contracts… separate business, freelance if you'd like to call it that way. I don't know what he's doing, and often he doesn't know what I'm doing. That way, we could never compromise each other. It might be that Khushrenada is involved with the botched deal. I heard about some… misgivings between him and Quatre."

Heero sniffed at the coffee. He'd kill for some good java. "Strange. Maybe it's all tied together even more than we think. The binding factor is Zechs Merquise."

"The rat that double-crossed you in the Service?"

"Exactly."

Duo mumbled something inaudible and took a swig of the coffee. He grimaced a bit, but didn't comment and stirred the concoction some more.

"As I've said, Wufei isn't the person to talk. They'd have to rip out his fingernails and even then he wouldn't scream."

"What?"

"I've seen it before," Duo said. "He can bring himself into some state of suspended animation. He can lower his heartbeat so that you'd think he's dead. As if he's left his own body. Creepy, but fascinating. Anyway, he's not going to babble at the sight of the first torturing device."

"Okay, so what if Khushrenada tried to frame Winner. What would his motive be?"

"What do you think?" Duo snorted again. "We're talking Gundams here. Everybody is going after the Gundams as symbol of power: control the Gundams, control the world. That would even make the most regular tattle tale go haywire."

"Sadaul kicked me out of the mansion so I wouldn't be found if they were going to search."

"Wise man," Duo nodded.

"He was going to dismantle the factory. If everything went all right, there's going to be nothing left but a little scrap metal."

"Trust Quatre to think and plan ahead." Duo sipped the coffee.

"So… what are we going to do now?"

"I have my own contacts. Howard, at a ship in the Pacific. If things turn ugly, I only have to go see him. He knows Quatre as well, and he knows what to do in a situation like this." Duo put down his mug. Heero looked at him. He was rewarded with a lopsided grin.

"Quatre is arrested, Wufei is gods know where and Trowa's whereabouts are also unknown," Duo said. "What do you think, secret agent? Ready to save the world once more?"

There was a silence that Heero found difficult to decipher. Duo looked at him anxiously, mirth sparkling in his eyes, his boisterous attitude present and energetic. With one swift motion, Heero closed the distance between them and grabbed Duo at the shoulders, pulling him closer for a bruising kiss. To his excitement and joyous relief, Duo returned the kiss. When they broke up, Heero said simply: "Only with you at my side."

"Let's do it, then," Duo answered and smiled.

He put his hands against Heero's chest but didn't push him away. Heero didn't press. As Duo craned his neck a little, Heero noticed the thin silvery line of the crucifix he was wearing.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm sorry too," Duo answered and parted his lips. They kissed again, this time slower, but no less intense. "I realize you couldn't introduce yourself as who you really were. I felt used, I was afraid of all those lies…"

"So you ran and hide..."

"Remind me to kill Wufei the next time I see him for reminding you of my tagline," Duo said. "God, I'm so sick and tired of that one."

"We got off on an extremely wrong foot," Heero said. "If only we could make a fresh start."

"A fresh start, we begin with now," Duo answered him.

"Yes, Yoda," Heero said and when he caught Duo's eyes widen in surprise, he laughed and took the opportunity to kiss him again. Duo didn't protest.


End file.
